


Blood and Bones and Photos

by Evitcani



Series: It Lives in Us [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: A Positive Zombie Apocalypse?, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Parasitic Infection is How the Zombie Outbreak Happens, genre typical gore, genre typical violence, some sexual themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-06-25 01:57:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 35,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19736029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evitcani/pseuds/Evitcani
Summary: Kravitz has always dreamed of cities: wrapped in vines, streets peaceful and empty. He never knew the world before the end. Still, life goes on and on and on. The homes he's known are in compounds of chain-link fences patrolled by armed guards, feral zombies creeping around the edges who sing to him in the unsettled night.There is no cure. There is no hope. There is only what little the survivors scraped together.Then there's Taako.And the new world that Kravitz was born into ends too.





	1. The Prince, the Fool

**Author's Note:**

> Big shout-out to [Tansy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanacetum/pseuds/Tanacetum) for beta-ing and babysitting my ass until I got this out the door. Check her out if you need a good beta. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journey always begins with a fool.

This facility was one of the few that still looked like it could be new. It wasn’t, of course. Kravitz had seen nothing new in his entire life. Pain lanced up his arm and he winced. He put a hand uselessly over the bandage as if pressure could help at this point. 

Taking a deep breath, Kravitz shoved the door open with his shoulder. The receptionist smiled up at him. He noticed Kravitz’s badge and his smile only widened. Kravitz regretted not taking it off in his haste. 

The receptionist stood to put some gloves on. “Great timing,” he grinned, grabbing a clipboard. “We think we just had a breakthrough. Do you have any patients who are freshly—?”

“Sorry,” Kravitz interrupted, scratching his arm. He’d been warned these people called the creatures _patients_ , but it was still off-putting. “The firm sent me here, I—” He cut himself off and just pulled back his sleeve to reveal the bandage. 

“Oh,” the receptionist said, smile dimming. “I see. How long ago?”

“This morning, sir,” Kravitz answered, looking away from the receptionist. “There were three monsters— _sorry_ —”

“It’s alright,” the doctor assured him, writing something down. “I’m Dr. Bluejeans. You can call me Barry. Don’t bother with ‘ _sir_ ’. You might be under our care for some time and that would get tiring.” 

Kravitz swallowed thickly. He knew it wasn’t a threat, but it felt like one. When he was a kid, he’d been dared to knock on the door of a facility near his school. He’d gotten as far as the open, barbed wire gate and run away crying at the flash of red eyes he swore he saw in the window. “T-the _patients_ to the north—” he tried to go on. 

“Let’s get you checked in, first,” Barry said, adjusting his glasses. “What’s your name?” 

“K56301 dash WAP,” Kravitz said, crossing his arms so he wouldn’t scratch the bandage again. 

“Your name,” Barry persisted, frowning. 

“It’s what the state named me,” Kravitz said, pursing his lips and meeting Barry’s eyes. A part of him screeched at him to stop glaring at the mad doctor he was about to be at the mercy of, but Kravitz figured he was well on track to dying. It wouldn’t really matter much longer.

“Ah,” Barry lamented awkwardly, tapping a pen on his clipboard. “Kind of a mouthful. Do you, uh, have a nickname?” 

“Kravitz,” he said quietly, looking over at a colorful sketch of some kind of building hanging on the wall. It was oddly tiered, but everything in this place was ancient. “Like the actor.” 

“Progress,” Barry cheered, writing down more on what was quickly becoming _Kravitz’s_ sheet. “Follow me and we’ll talk more when you’re properly prepared.” 

Kravitz nodded and acquiesced, trying to remind himself these _people_ were trying to help. Raven wouldn’t have sent him here in the first place if she thought they’d hurt him. He may not have trusted plague doctors, but he trusted her. 

Barry led him into the back. The facility could have easily been any of a dozen Prend hospitals Kravitz had been in thousands of times, but it was cleaner. A group of someones obviously cared about the place being sterile. Everything felt stark and bright like the old TV sets from posters about the ER. He was almost afraid to even brush the walls in case he ruined something in his dirty fatigues.

Their shoes squeaked on the linoleum tiles. Despite how well kept this clinic was, it was eerily deserted. The sound echoed back to them a thousand times over. Kravitz peered into every room he could. Most were shuttered, probably to save precious energy. The few that were open looked like someone had very recently been at work in them. He couldn’t even begin to guess what anyone was using them for, but it felt of some great importance by the number of instruments and papers laid on the tables.

Finally, Barry stopped by an empty exam room and gestured for Kravitz to go in. He took out a cloth sheet and sat it on the little bed. “Do you know how to put on this gown?” Kravitz glanced between the sheet and Barry, shaking his head. “Right,” Barry smiled a bit sadly. “You’ll undress and put this on like so.” 

When Kravitz was changed, Barry began a simple physical exam. This was something Kravitz had done a million times. Reflexes, ears, throat, breathing, all of it came back normal until Barry flashed a light in Kravitz’s eyes. “Hm.” He marked something down on Kravitz’s chart. “You said you were bit this morning? Could you give me an approximate time?”

“Maybe oh-six-hundred,” Kravitz said automatically, curious what Barry was getting at. 

“Have your doctors ever mentioned your eyes don’t react to light evenly?” Barry leaned forward, flashing the light at Kravitz again. “You’ve got some swelling back there, too.”

“I’m guessing that’s not normal,” Kravitz mumbled, trying to blink away the bright splotches still lingering in his vision. “I’ve always been a little sensitive to light. Doctors told me it was probably from growing up on the West Coast.” 

“Mm,” Barry hummed again, sounding dissatisfied with Kravitz’s answer. “No head injuries lately, right?” He took a step back and crossed his arms, looking at Kravitz like an insect under a microscope.

“Yeah—Yes,” Kravitz said nervously and then quickly corrected himself, “I mean—No, no head injuries.” He licked his lips, lacing his fingers together in his lap. “Is there something wrong? Well. _More_ wrong?” 

“No, no I don’t think so,” Barry said and jotted down a few more notes on Kravitz’s sheet. “Why don’t you unwrap your bandage so I can take a look at what we’re dealing with?” 

He turned towards the kitchen-sink counter and began taking out a lot more empty vials than Kravitz was comfortable with. Especially when those were probably going to be filled in some way by himself. 

Kravitz picked at the edges of gauze he’d swaddled his arm in. Finally, he got the courage to start unwrapping it. The bandages were rusty red through several layers. He had to steel himself for the last piece laying against his skin. With a deep breath, Kravitz ripped it off like a bandaid. Several teeth clattered to the floor and Kravitz covered his mouth to bite back a scream of pain. 

It certainly didn’t look pretty. 

He caught sight of something moving in the folds of broken skin and looked anywhere but his arm, trying not to gag. Barry rolled over to Kravitz’s side as if this was nothing more than a papercut.

“This needs stitches,” he said unhappily. “How badly does it hurt?” 

“Does it matter? I won’t need my arm in a couple hours,” Kravitz sighed, not really arguing as Barry gently prodded the edges of the wound with a swab.

“You’ll need it a few hours after a couple,” Barry shrugged and rolled away to the counter again. He came back with a pair of tweezers. “I need to clean this out before I can close it up. I think the sudden summertime this morning helped your new little friends hatch.”

“I _really_ don’t want to know what is or isn’t moving around in my skin,” Kravitz hissed, putting his free hand over his eyes. “I didn’t even know they could just hatch like that. Outside of a somebody.”

“Oh yes. We hatch them in the lab all the time,” Barry said idly, as if parasites were part of that morning’s early entry into summer. Kravitz could feel him occasionally plucking and pulling around the wound, but it came with very little pain. “Fortunately, when they hatch outside of somebody, they’re already too big to get _into_ somebody. They die off pretty quick like this. These little guys are lucky. They’ll go in an isolation tank so we can use them to help treat you. _If_ you’re infected at all.” 

Kravitz made a face under his hand. Even if minorly disturbing, it was comforting to hear Barry talk so matter-of-factly about them. It made the parasites seem less powerful. “What do you mean _if_ I’m infected?”

“You were bitten, not injected,” Barry said evenly. “This will sting a bit. I’m putting some disinfectant on it.” Kravitz hissed in pain on cue. “Some hatched parasites are a good sign that they may have all gotten too big before they could enter your bloodstream. It’s _unlikely_ , but it is _possible_. We’ll know for sure here in a minute when I do a Color Test.” 

_Right._ The Color Test. Green meant ‘ _not infected_ ’. Blue meant ‘ _too late_ ’. 

“I have to say it’ll be bittersweet for us if you’re not infected. We were looking for someone with the disease who was relatively healthy,” Barry explained as he closed up Kravitz’s arm. Kravitz took the pain with only a grunt. “Once we’ve removed the parasite, we believe the host will return to normal functionality. Like waking up from a nap.” 

Kravitz’s curiosity got the better of him. “How are you going to remove it?” 

“I don’t think you really want to know. It involves a lot of needles,” Barry answered with a small laugh. “We’ve seen some promising results in the lab. Problem is, the parasite changes the biology of its host. If the parasite is gone, we can assume the host will die under the conditions most patients with the disease are driven to.” 

All of this was starting to make Kravitz’s eyes glaze over. Normally he’d probably find this fascinating. Unfortunately, Kravitz didn’t really think Barry could cure him. It felt like a lot of talk for something that would never happen.

He knew he would die. He would have to feel every inch of his body being taken from him. He knew there was nothing anyone could do.

Slowly, Kravitz closed his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispered, putting his free hand over his mouth. “Can I have a moment?” 

“No,” Barry said quickly, wrapping Kravitz’s arm. “I’m afraid we don’t have much time, Kravitz. Once you’re in your room, you’ll have all the time you need to-to make peace or whatever you need.” 

Kravitz nodded, shoving down a sob. He sat up, silently crying through the rest of the exam. Barry drew his blood and he didn’t even notice the pinch. A little splash of blood on The Color Test. 

_Too late._

He was led to a hallway of small glass rooms, each with a padded chair bolted to the floor. It was clean and sterile like the rest of the facility. Every chair had an occupant.

That shocked him from his grief. 

Rows and rows of monsters in various states of decay sat in silence, heads dipped forward. Most of them were breathing. Efforts had obviously been put into repairing them, caring for them. Every monster was in clean clothes, their hair trimmed short and skin washed. They were all strapped into the chairs, a clipboard hanging on each door. Every clipboard had a picture of the monster from when they were a person. 

Except one. 

Barry led him towards the one at the end. It snarled and hissed at him, fighting its bonds. Even the room it was in bore the evidence of its escape attempts in deep scratches around the lock and handle. It looked almost alive. A devastatingly handsome elf, scarred all across its face. Only the vacant red eyes gave away what it really was. If Kravitz squinted, he thought it looked familiar. 

“Don’t mind Taako,” Barry sighed, flicking a switch that darkened the glass. Kravitz tried to smile and failed as he realized the empty cell next to _Taako_ was meant for him.

This was where he’d die. 

Barry gestured to the chair. 

Kravitz sat down and Barry secured him in place. “Tell me if it’s too tight.” 

It wasn’t and Kravitz wished he had another reason to stall the inevitable. He knew it wouldn’t stop him from dying, but it was better than waiting for death, wasn’t it? 

Barry placed the IV in his arm, checking the drip. “I’ll give you some time,” he said and shut the door. 

_Please don’t let me die alone_ , Kravitz tried to say. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. Barry gave him a soft smile. He darkened the glass. Kravitz was left staring at himself as dread and panic set in. 

A scratching noise to his left caught his attention. Through the darkened glass, he could see sharp red eyes. It was staring straight at Kravitz. Behind the glass and in the same position, its eyes didn’t look so vacant. It looked bored, despite the big grin on its face. 

“H-hello,” Kravitz said, as if it could understand him. “I’m Kravitz. Barry said your name was Taako, right?” He saw its head tilt towards him as if reacting. Maybe that was why Barry had pressed him so hard for his name. “Taako. Great. Looks like we’re going to be neighbors.” 

He was really only talking to dampen his nerves. He turned back to staring at the door. A pillow on the headrest gave him a place to at least put his head. Actually, the whole damn chair was comfortable. 

“If you’re an elf, you must be from Prend, right?” He took a deep breath, looking up at the dim lights above him. “Only seen a couple elves who were still alive. You’ve got a nice smile, too. Bet you were an actor on—” Realization slammed into him. 

_Taako from TV._

He’d seen him, once, in the centerfold of a very old, very dirty magazine; a centerfold about _spreading more than icing with TV’s Taako_. He turned his head away, face practically lighting on fire. It wasn’t every day you met a monster you’d wanked to pictures of. 

Thankfully, the door swung open again. “Hi there,” a woman greeted, one eye as sharp as Taako’s and the other covered with an eyepatch. “I’m Dr. Lup.” Barry stood somewhere behind her. Dr. Lup knelt so she was eye-level with Kravitz. Another familiar face. She was older than Taako. It showed in her eyes and the way she carried herself rather than anything in her looks beyond the silver at her temples. He’d always heard elves didn’t age and he supposed Dr. Lup proved that true. She was Taako’s spitting image in all the ways that mattered, but few he could vocalize. “Barry said he told you about the procedure,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. 

“K-kind of,” Kravitz stammered, fingers clutching the arm rest. “Something about needles.” 

“Good,” she said softly, putting a hand on his. It was cold and comforting. His eyes pricked with tears from the simple kindness and Kravitz hated himself for being so easily moved. “We’ll be here with you through it all.” He looked to the side, then tilted his head back, trying not to cry. “We think we finally have the cure, Kravitz. When you change, we’ll just flush the parasite out. It’ll be like you closed your eyes for a moment and you’ll be back with us, I promise.” 

“Lup, we can’t—” Barry frowned, looking nervously at Taako. 

“We tried this on my brother,” she confided, squeezing Kravitz’s hand again. “The strain of virus he has only ever hit Glamour Springs in force with a few minor outbursts. Burns itself out. It’s too dangerous, too deadly. We weren’t surprised when it resisted our efforts.” Kravitz nodded vaguely, as if he had the knowledge to agree. He was a drowning man grasping at the straws of hope Lup was offering him. “Do you know what Glamour Springs was?” 

“W-where they used to make talkies,” he nodded, feeling a bit like a little kid. For the two people in front of him, he probably was. “They taught us in school. I went to one on the West. Silent Field Elementary. It burned down a couple years ago.” He winced and stared at a point above Lup. “It’s not important. Sorry. I’m rambling.” 

“Ramble all you want,” she told him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “We could be here a few minutes or a few hours.” 

“I don’t want to ramble until I _die_! I—I’m scared,” he admitted, nails digging into the wooden end of the arm rests. “Can’t—Can’t you knock me out until it’s over?” He looked up at them desperately. “ _Please._ ”

Lup and Barry exchanged a look. “Yeah,” Barry murmured. Lup stood, nodding at Barry as he took something from his bag. He slipped a needle into the top of Kravitz’s IV. 

“Count backwards from one hundred with us,” Lup said, already sounding distant. “One—”

Kravitz slammed back into reality with a scratching to his left. He groggily turned his head, meeting red eyes. The monster’s face was pressed against the glass, Taako free of its bonds. He looked around desperately, trying to form words. Nothing came out. 

His mouth wouldn’t work. 

The monster seemed to realize he was awake and stood properly. It smiled, a big broad grin like all monsters did when they saw prey. Kravitz’s heart picked up and his fingers twitched in their restraints. 

The monster turned suddenly to its door and opened it as if it was a person. As if it leaving his field of vision wasn’t terrifying enough, he heard rattling at his door. He couldn’t lift his head to look. 

Instead, he screamed. 

An alarm went off somewhere as a hand touched his. It was warm, gentle. The hand moved to his face, patting his cheek softly. “Kra-av,” a voice croaked near his ear, “vi-itz.” Its hand covered his mouth. 

Kravitz squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pretend he was anywhere else. Someone far away shouted, “ _Shit!_ ” 

His screaming gave way to half-hearted whimpers. Everything felt too surreal as this monster climbed into his lap and put its hands around his throat. 

And _squeezed_. 

Then the hands were gone. 

Kravitz cracked an eye open. The biggest person he’d ever seen was in a full suit of armor, wrestling Taako back into its cell. He opened both eyes to watch as Taako tried and failed to bite through the knight’s chainmail. Eventually, the knight succeeded and snapped a padlock on the outside of the door. 

Taako snarled and bodily slammed itself against the door. “Well,” the man announced, shoving his visor up. “What’d you do to rile him up?”

“N-nothing,” Kravitz slurred, closing his eyes again. The man didn’t seem to hear him, checking Kravitz over. Everything was happening too fast. “Nothing,” he said louder, nearly shouting. 

The man in the armor froze, blinking down at Kravitz. “Wait, you’re alive?” He walked backwards, snagging a clipboard off Kravitz’s door. Taako’s hissing increased, door rattling. The armored man looked at the clipboard, then back to Kravitz, then again at the clipboard. “Sure you got bit?” 

Kravitz glared at the ceiling, irritated by everything. “Yes,” he did shout that time, enunciating carefully. 

“Ye-es,” Taako mocked. 

The armored man startled away from Taako, staring between the two of them. “Did you just—?” His mouth opened and closed. He kept looking at Kravitz as if it was his fault Taako was mocking him. Finally, he held up his hands in brief surrender. “Okay, this is way too weird for me. Barry ‘n Lup will be awake in like an hour, keep it together until then,” he said, and closed Kravitz’s door, padlocking it too. 

“Great,” Kravitz spat in Taako’s direction. Taako was still pawing at his door, rattling it. He mentally noted he’d started thinking of Taako as a person and frowned. 

“Gr-r-eat,” Taako echoed back, hands slamming against the door. He turned his big, vacant eyes on Kravitz. 

“As if he’s never heard you bunch parroting whatever you hear,” Kravitz snorted, refusing to look at Taako anymore. 

“Yo-ou,” Taako groaned. 

A monster three cells down turned its broken head to Kravitz. “ _Yo-ou_ ,” Kravitz realized it was mouthing. He squeezed his eyes shut as the other occupants began croaking, gurgling, pulling at their restraints. “Kra-avi-itz,” they chanted, so far out of sync they sounded like static. 

He hated zombies.


	2. Time Can Do So Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much time has passed.

Evening swept across what was left of their world. Lup felt it in her bones, like a heavy curtain being drawn back. Her eyes fluttered open until she was staring at the tilted ceiling of the room they’d claimed as theirs.

Slowly, she managed to wipe the sleep from her eyes and rose. Barry was already awake, guessing by the empty spot beside her. He always woke up before her, but he usually waited on her to get up too. Sighing, she dressed quickly and wondered what could have had him running off this early. 

Then, she remembered their new patient and dressed a little faster. 

They could never tell what strain of parasite their patients had. None were as troublesome or as clever as Taako, but some patients were a pain to deal with. The parasite Kravitz was infected with had already shown itself to be slow acting. He was the first person in such good health to voluntarily check into their clinic. His bite was no more than a deep scratch, really. Barry had positively identified him as infected. 

The ideal patient to try their cure on. 

Except they’d stayed with him all through the night and he hadn’t turned. When it got too late, they’d left him in Magnus’s care. Magnus knew to wake them in cases of emergency, but few had ever happened. 

All of them involved Taako. 

She swept her hair into a ponytail and opened the door. The sheer volume of the noise overwhelmed her and she had to fall back, slamming the door shut. 

“ _Babe_ ,” a walkie-talkie on the stand trilled. “ _I see you’re awake._ ” she could hear that noise in the background, some sort of static gargle. 

“Yeah, I’m here,” she said into the mic, grabbing the walkie-talkie off the stand. “What’s going on?” 

“ _Our patients are talking._ ” 

She almost dropped her walkie-talkie on the ground. “Come again?” 

“ _Kravitz? Yeah, he didn’t turn last night, _” Barry explained in a hushed tone. That surprised Lup. There were no recorded cases taking longer than twenty-four hours. She thought she heard someone say something distinct in the background of Barry’s open comms. “ _Listen_.”__

__There was silence for a moment. “ _What do you want me to say?_ ” Kravitz asked, sounding exasperated. _ _

__Another pause._ _

__“ _Wa-ant_ ,” croaked a mocking voice she hadn’t heard outside old VHS tapes in 32 years. It had all the same haughtiness Taako wore with an insult. None of the fire was lost, even if his voice was rusty. _ _

__The other voices echoed Taako and then each other until they became static again._ _

__Lup stared at the picture of her and Taako pinned to her vanity. “Was that Taako?”_ _

__“ _Yeah_ ,” Barry practically grinned over the comms. Lup covered her smile, tears pricking her eye. Her brother was still in there, somewhere. “ _Kravitz claims this is typical behavior. I think we should move him somewhere else and take some blood samples._ ”_ _

__“Gotcha,” she told him, already starting to pick up stray plates and loose notes. She dumped an armful of stained white mugs in the sink. “Bring him up to the lab. I can’t get down to you because of the noise.” She grabbed the curtain and closed it, hiding their bed from view. Kravitz knew they had to sleep too, but she didn’t want to make the bed and it looked a little unprofessional._ _

__“ _Ten-four_.” The walkie-talkie went quiet and Lup prepared a syringe to take a blood sample. She flicked on the security screens and watched every patient shouting. _ _

__All in all, Barry had Kravitz upstairs in under five minutes. They both looked stressed from the noise, but otherwise fine. Kravitz looked no closer to turning than he had the night before._ _

__“Take a seat,” she told him and nodded at their kitchen table. Kravitz sat down, hands in his lap and looking unsure of himself. “Barry mentioned that infected patients talking to you was normal?”_ _

__“They don’t _talk_ ,” he corrected, offering his arm up for Lup to take his blood. She tied a band around his bicep. “Just parrot. I don’t know how this hasn’t been a problem for you before.” _ _

__“In all my years working with patients who are infected, not one has ever uttered a word. Or echoed anything I’ve said. This’ll pinch,” she warned as she began the sample. Kravitz winced, but otherwise didn’t react. “ _Heard of_ someone who's seen them talk while on patrol. She could never prove it.” She pulled the syringe free and lay tape over the gauze. _ _

__“Mm,” he hummed, sounding disbelieving. He rubbed at his still-bandaged wound. “What was her name?”_ _

__“Julia,” Barry answered for her. “Julia Burnsides.”_ _

__“She moved here six years ago when her kid got sick. Never heard from her after,” Kravitz frowned down at his hands. “We used to patrol together. How’s her son doing?”_ _

__“She’s one of our patients,” Lup smiled, giving Kravitz a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. She didn’t quite tell him that their son was a patient, too. It answered a question she didn’t know she had. If Julia was connected to Kravitz, it could explain her stories of infected people who could talk._ _

__She handed the sample off to Barry. Barry nodded and moved towards the lab proper._ _

__“Oh,” Kravitz said softly, looking genuinely sad. He seemed out of place and time._ _

__But of course he did._ _

__She’d recognized him when she’d seen him the day before. The name the state gave him should have been enough, but his preferred name confirmed it. WAP orphans had been born in a community near Glamour Springs, but at least five years after the Outbreak: WAP—West Acquired Point. Orphans who hadn’t been given to the state, but _repossessed_ for the medical costs of birth. Lup doubted Kravitz knew who his parents were. _ _

__Maybe he did, given the nickname. More likely everyone saw the same actor she did._ _

__“Say,” she said with a quirk of her lips. “You know Fynn Kravitz? I have some of his old movies if you wanna do somethin’ so you’re not just sitting here bored.”_ _

__Kravitz’s face lit up. “Really? I’ve only ever seen him in _that one_ , the one with the bears,” he gushed, hands moving as he talked. “I’ve seen him in posters for way more.” _ _

__Lup always found this part of interacting with people born After difficult. They lived on crumbs of society, but loved everything from _Prend_ completely. Seeing a poster of even the worst movie was worthy of excitement. She wanted to throw her entire library at them. _ _

__Sadly, she could not. Mostly, the state had told her to stop or they would burn her library down._ _

__“I’ve got _way_ more than that,” she laughed and pulled a VHS off her shelf. “C’mon, you can watch this in the side room while we work. Is Fynn where you got the nickname?” _ _

__“Yeah,” Kravitz nodded as he followed. “People always say I look like him, ever since I was a kid. I’m not really sure I see it myself.” He paused in the doorway of her living room. For a moment, she wondered if it was the mess from Barry and her not being exactly neat on their movie nights._ _

__“You really do look like him,” she agreed, shoving the tape into the old TV._ _

__“Wow. I’ve never seen a _color_ TV up close before,” he told her, seeming too afraid to go farther than where he was, as if his mere presence could break it. She knew she needed to stop mentally comparing everyone born After to a child, but his awe in the face of the TV was—well—adorable. _ _

__“This thing has survived an apocalypse, you can’t do anything to hurt it,” she reassured him, gesturing to the couch as she started the movie for him. “Barry and I will be in the next room if you need anything.”_ _

__“Uh, a-actually,” Kravitz started, looking away. She dreaded he had some information that would change the theory forming in her head. It was _way_ too cool. “Could I _maybe_ get some, uh, pants? Just underwear would do at this point, really. This gown is kind of, uhm, drafty.” _ _

__“Oh,” Lup blinked rapidly. She laughed and waved her hand vaguely. “ _Right._ Yeah. Let me get you some sweatpants.”_ _

__After making sure Kravitz was comfortable, she bustled around the kitchen and actually cleaned all those mugs. “How’s it goin’, babe?” she called back to Barry._ _

__“Want to guess?” Barry answered immediately. “You won’t get it this time. You won’t guess it in a million years.”_ _

__“He’s already infected,” she said easily, laughing._ _

__“Err,” Barry buzzed. “He’s already— _Wait._ ” He held up a finger and squinted at her over the rim of his glasses. “Okay, how?”_ _

__“Whap,” Lup smirked, turning around and wiping her hands dry on a dish towel. “He was born near Glamour Springs. Nickname Kravitz. Fynn Kravitz—who had no family, if I recall—couldn’t deny that was his son if he tried. Too much of a coincidence for an actor who lived in Glamour Springs during the Outbreak, who somehow managed to survive _Glamour Springs_ without getting infected. Then, later that same actor _happens_ to have a son who _happens_ to think talking infected are normal and who _happens_ to have the longest delayed infection cycle in recorded history. I don’t buy it. He’s infected with something weird he got from his parents or he has a gene that stops the parasite. I _guessed_ the former.” _ _

__“Good guess,” Barry smiled, seeming genuinely impressed. “His bloodstream has eggs so he’s definitely infected, but the eggs are kinda _weird_.”_ _

__“Weird?” Lup walked over to where Barry was sitting and grabbed a seat of her own._ _

__“I think it fits your theory that he’s infected with something weird. I want to get a scan of his head,” he sighed and offered her the slides. “The good news? The parasite he’s infected with is shooting blank eggs into his bloodstream. The DNA doesn’t match the eggs I removed from his wound.”_ _

__“Blank,” Lup said in disbelief. It sounded too good to be true. “He’s a vaccine.”_ _

__“Walking, talking vaccine,” Barry agreed, looking at the door to the side room. “I put larvae from a test batch in the blood sample. Antibodies decimated every last one.”_ _

__“This is—” Lup started, covering her mouth as both their eyes turned to the security monitor. Their patients sat once again at peace. Except for Taako, who stared directly at the spot where Kravitz had been, mouth still moving and eyes blank._ _

__A vaccine wasn’t a cure._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter installment, but I hope you all enjoy it no less. <3 The feedback I’ve gotten has been really positive and I’m so glad you’re all excited!!!


	3. The Silent Ones are My Choir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interview, an intervention. "Don't panic."

Row upon row of silent patients sat, heads tilted downward. Their chairs were secure but upright. It tricked the parasite into thinking its host was active. If they were horizontal, the parasite would do whatever it could to get up again, even if it broke its host in the process. A dead host was better than an immobile one. If the parasite wasn’t able to right its host in six hours, it would evacuate, which would tear a line straight through the brain and kill the host for good. So, the patients sat upright and the parasite thought it was safe. It slept, waiting for prey. Even dormant, they could quickly become dangerous. 

Barry knew that better than almost anyone in the world. 

A poster of the parasite’s life cycle decorated one wall. Carey helped Barry direct the camera crew around that poster. He sat beside it, so it was in the background of every shot. Next to it was Taako’s cell. He was quiet for now and had been for a worrying number of hours, but he looked the most like a person. A person—not a monster—who happened to be infected with a parasite. A simple organism with a simple life that had almost wiped out all sentient species on their planet. 

The interviewer sat across from Barry. A team of makeup artists touched them both up. The director counted down and then signalled for them to go. 

“Dr. Bluejeans,” the interviewer started, “Thank you for your time today.”

“Of course,” Barry answered with a nervous smile, trying not to stare directly into the camera. “I-I’m always happy to help.” 

“Could you tell us what the first stage of infection looks like? What signs should people look for and what should they do if they positively identify an infected person?”

“Don’t panic,” he said quickly. 

The director cut, frowning. “Answer the first question, then the next, please, Dr. Bluejeans. Let’s take it from the top of your answer.” 

“Right,” Barry sighed, shifting in his chair, waiting for the signal. “The first stage of its life is the egg. They’re found in the blood and saliva of people infected with a mature parasite. They incubate and hatch when they get warm enough. The perfect condition for hatching is body temperature.”

* * *

She tasted sweet. He hadn’t expected any less. 

Barry pressed his lips to where her makeup had smeared on her cheek. “You’re a wreck,” he told her, voice hoarse. 

Lup laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to lay on top of her. “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t cast the first stone, _Doctor_ Bluejeans,” she snickered. “Besides, it’s your fault. _Just_ cuddling to get warmer, my ass.”

He laughed, kissing her collarbone. “You complained I was too cold last time I—” He snorted and shook his head, turning his face. “I was just trying to warm up a little.” He pressed his ear to her chest, listening to the beat of her heart. It was the rhythm he’d been trying to find his whole life.

* * *

“Do they show any symptoms after being infected?” 

Barry glanced at the camera, then back to the interviewer. “Sometimes. In the early stages of The Outbreak, the parasite seemed content to be dormant,” he tried to explain, wondering how much detail to give. This class of parasite had existed as long as people had. The one that caused The Outbreak wasn’t too different. “About three months prior to the official date of the Outbreak is when this more aggressive strain of parasite infected Patient Zero. Patient Zero continued normal activities until The Outbreak. Then, all at once on the night _of_ the Outbreak, it seemed to wake up in everyone who’d been infected. People can expect—”

“Cut,” the director yelled and shook her head at Barry. “Start with that last part. Be concise, Dr. Bluejeans. The people want information, not history.”

“R-right,” he tried and failed to smile. By the time the next shot started, he looked like a serious scientist. “No, they don’t show symptoms immediately. It takes anywhere from an hour to twenty-four hours for the parasite to take root and change its host’s behavior.”

* * *

Barry smashed Lup’s window with a brick. She flinched away from the sound, curling tighter into the corner of her room. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” she sobbed, hugging herself. 

“Lup,” he pleaded, throwing a towel over the broken edges before climbing in. “Lup, you can’t stay here.” He tried to get closer, but she threw out her hands as if to stop him. 

“ _Please_ ,” she begged, hands going to cover her face. “Just _go_.” 

He smelled rather than saw the blood. It took him a moment to realize it was running crimson down her cheeks.

* * *

“Immediately before behavior changes,” Barry went on, holding his hands in his lap, “some patients will have an eye that fills with blood or bleeds. At this point, the parasite has traveled into the face, latching onto a vein near one of the eyes. After it has grown by drinking the blood of the patient, it will move to the brain before it gets too big.”

“Could the larvae be removed from the eye before reaching the brain?”

“Yes and no,” Barry sighed, shoulders hunching. “It’s microscopic. Within the hour, the host will enter a dreamlike state prior to a stage people refer to as _turning_. However, if you act quickly, you can remove the eye and the larvae should remain attached. Even if it does remove the larvae for the moment, the patient’s blood may carry eggs in the process of hatching and re-infect the individual. I can’t stress enough how incredibly dangerous it is. There are very few recorded cases of the procedure working.” 

“Could the patient know if they still had viable eggs in their bloodstream?”

“No,” Barry answered frankly, lips thinning. “The parasite was never meant to be infectious. The eggs are almost impossible to detect, which is how it got out of the labs at all. Patient Zero was the product of a rushed clinical trial, they didn’t do enough to—”

“Cut,” the director sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please, Dr. Bluejeans, we don’t need conspiracy theories.”

“Right,” he said quietly, not waiting for them to set up again before going on. “No, there’s no way to know without looking at a sample under a microscope. It’s safer to take the infected person to a medical facility for examination. They will have a much better chance with doctors than in the wild.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Barry whispered, rocking Lup in his arms. He’d boarded up her window and door. Something banged at the window, making noises that were almost human. “I thought it would work. I’m so sorry.” She reached a hand up to the bandages at her eye, groaning softly. She sagged against his chest, unmoving.

He knew he needed to check her pulse.

Sobbing, he held her and stared at the boarded windows. He couldn’t even look at her, too much of a coward. He was terrified he’d killed her, but he couldn’t think of another way. 

He hadn’t known how else to save her.

* * *

“The next stage is well known,” the interviewer concluded. 

“Yes,” Barry agreed. “The host is groggy at first, slow. When the parasite has matured, it will begin trying to attack nearby living people. Infected persons smile when they see people, but don’t show any expressions when they think they are alone or only among other infected. They go after anyone alive, but know when someone is infected.” He paused, then added, “We think they can communicate.” 

The interviewer’s ears perked at that information. “Communicate? I’ve never heard that before.”

“We’ve done some MRIs of infected patients.” Barry nodded, turning to pull out some files he’d prepared. “The grumbling noise from infected patients cover up the calls they’re making to others. Recipients of the call have parts of their brain light up like they’re processing. This is how they move in packs. The noises they actually make seem to be too high-pitched for humans to hear, but we can detect it. It travels farther than it should, like a radio signal more than a conversation.”

“Should people take precautions to prevent being swarmed, if the zombies can talk to each other?”

“There’s nothing they can do except try to get out of sight,” Barry said sadly, trying not to make a face at the use of ‘ _zombie_ ’. “If one finds you, every infected person in a five mile radius will know where you are.”

“Somehow, I’m more scared than reassured about the infection than I was before,” the interviewer laughed, obviously trying to inject some levity into the conversation.

“Great,” the director said, making a motion to wrap up. “Next, we wanted to have Dr. Amaiat talk about the Glamour Springs outbreak.” 

Barry stood up, giving Lup a kiss on the cheek right under her eyepatch as she passed. “Don’t be too wordy,” he whispered. “This is for the state, and they’re not big on big words.” 

“Mhm, they’ll get all of my mind or none of it,” she told him breezily. 

Barry couldn’t help but believe her. She was the only person in the world who knew more than he did. She was leaps and bounds ahead of him.

Light years ahead of the rest of the world. 

“Everything starts,” Lup said to her interviewer with all the confidence Barry didn’t have, “with Patient Zero in Glamour Springs. As you know, Patient Zero was purposefully infected with a selectively bred form of _T. gondii_ by Raincoat Corporation, which renamed itself West Acquisition Point after the state bought its assets.” Behind her, Taako lifted his head, mimicking someone who was looking around. He wasn’t smiling. That caught Barry’s attention, distracting him from the director and Lup for a moment. The director raised her hand like she was going to cut, but Lup went on, “He lived in Glamour Springs and he infected my brother. We think the _cure_ —” 

The whole room froze, including Barry. He hadn’t thought she’d bring it up. All his attention refocused on her. That word had so much weight to carry, but he wanted to believe she could shoulder the whole world.

A pin could drop. 

Instead, Taako screamed.


	4. Where the Light Can’t Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It speaks, it lives, it dies.

“ _Gooood morning, Glamour Springs!_ ”

Today, Taako let the alarm continue to feign whatever things a morning radio show would say. “ _The weather is sunny, in some higher degrees! Folks, you’ll wanna get your raincoats and scarves ready for sure_.” He finally rolled over and shut it off as the morning sports talk devolved into saying the names of various types of balls. 

He marked a tally on the wall above his bed. A lot of the wall swam with only his vague idea of the number of days that had passed, but he had a good guess it’d been about a year. He sighed and rubbed his temple, willing himself to get out of bed. 

The alarm went off again, “ _Gooood morning, Glamour Springs!_ ”

Taako blinked and then fumbled for the snooze button. It bounced off the floor, hitting the ground and cracking. Still it went on, “ _Gooood morning, Glamour Springs!_ ”

Hissing in frustration, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and punted it into the wall. The poor alarm clock went quiet, shattered across the carpet. He closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face. His health must have finally started to worsen, he thought grimly. 

“ _Gooood morning, Taako!_ ”

Taako’s eyes snapped open, staring at the alarm clock on his night stand. It had sounded a little like an old friend of his. Something in the tenor, in the tone, in the smile wrapped around the words could almost be him. He scrubbed his hands over his face. 

Fynn had thankfully only been featured on posters and not on the faces of any of the people he passed. 

His old friend was in much worse shape than Taako was. As much as he wanted to think Fynn had come to his bedside as he lay dying, he knew it was impossible. Maybe that was all the voice had been, an idle want for at least one miracle for someone he cared about. He’d be a lot more at whatever peace was if he was the only one leaving a little too early. 

_No_ , he caught himself. Succumbing to grief would be the real end of ol’ Taako. 

He stood, already dressed to leave. The morning light glinted through the halls as he locked his door. It was more habit than any real concern. 

Glamour Springs glimmered in the twilight outside the elevator doors on the ground floor, dark here where it had been morning above. It was too beautiful, too big and kind and winding to be real. The people he passed were faceless until he _really_ looked at them. If he ran in one direction, he would end up right where he began. He’d tested this place, again and again and again. 

This too-pretty city was what he’d been left in. For a while, he’d thought he was dead. He’d robbed ice cream stands, thrown fireballs at billboards of the Wonder Twins, broken shit just because he felt like it and seduced the prettiest men he could find. 

Eventually, he doubted the whole dead-and-gone-to-wherever conclusion. People would stop suddenly on the street, put a hand on his shoulder and say things to him in voices that didn’t match who they were. Lup, talking to him through the bark of a dog. Her new boyfriend, a little old lady feeding pigeons on a bench. Voices he didn’t know that said things too randomly and too clearly for Taako not to take them as things that were happening back in reality. 

He figured he was in a coma.

It made sense. Sazed had been clear on his prognosis. Taako knew this had been in his six month forecast if he was unlucky. He hadn’t beaten the odds, not even close.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try for a second chance anyway. 

He thought if he could _just_ keep a grip on reality, he could wake up again. Which made him aware of the rhythm of the city. The background noises weren’t random. They were coded. Not his heartbeat, nor another cyclic rhythm.

A language, softly spoken in the rush of cars and the rise and fall of the ambient murmur of people.

It felt restless today. A pit of anxiety sat in the center of his stomach and he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t go very far, settling on a brand name corner cafe that hadn’t been there the day before. There was always a spot for him everywhere he went. Faceless people enjoyed indistinct conversation. He reached forward and took a cup of coffee he’d never needed to order, sipping it as he listened. 

It tasted like water. 

Somehow, the cafe made him feel like he was standing on the edge of the ocean with waves lapping at his feet and a storm threatening overhead. As he thought it, he picked up a distinct lilt he’d never heard the city make before.

It felt like a warning. 

He grabbed his pen and denoted it on a napkin with a jagged wave like an ‘M’. Taako jotted down another rhythm he felt, a sort of roiling like a ship that he denoted with a swirl. He blinked for a minute as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Slowly, he looked up and realized he was alone in the cafe. 

There were no background actors, no noise, nothing but Taako and the city itself. 

“ _Please_ ,” something whispered in a language that slid over Taako’s mind like sandpaper, “ _don’t let me die alone._ ”

He winced, ears folding back in pain. Everything hurt, his whole body _hurt_. Pain was the one thing he hadn’t had to deal with in a long time. He hugged himself, doubling over. The city seemed to feel the same way; it rocked like it was cradling Taako. 

Everything went still. 

He could hear his own ragged breath. Something was watching him. He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, lifting his face to the window. _Three, two, one,_ Taako thought and opened his eyes. 

Outside the cafe window was a great eye staring him down. 

Taako froze, fear filling him. Finally, a more rational part of his brain took over. He hunched down, trying to hide.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he hissed under his breath, hugging his knees. An overwhelming pressure pushed down on his back, like he was too heavy. The world creaked under him, threatening to drop him through the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Something wound around his waist and he didn’t dare look. “H-hello,” it slithered, “I’m Kravitz. Barry said your name was Taako, right?” 

Taako sobbed, terrified. He put his arms around the incorporeal thing that held him, trying to shove it off. “Taako. Great. Looks like we’re going to be neighbors.” It slipped around him, choking him. 

Then all at once, it was gone. When _the thing_ slipped away, he felt an alien sense of righteous anger. 

_How dare you_ , he thought, and leaned back, covering his face. It wasn’t his thought. It was the city’s, its rhythm and voice. He panted for breath and sobbed, curling into a ball on the ground. _How dare you._ He felt the city roiling, twisting like a small animal in a trap, or a serpent readying a strike. Taako covered his ears, trembling. “ _Stop!_ ” 

It stopped. 

Taako crawled to his bed, not even starting to guess how he’d gotten back to his apartment, vomiting off the side. He lay on his side, staring wide-eyed out the window at the city’s too-beautiful skyline. It could come again and he was too scared to close his eyes and then Taako didn’t know where he was. 

A white room with glass walls. 

He’d been here before. He didn’t care. He knew how the doors worked. The latch fell away easily and he was there, hands around its neck. “ _Kravitz_ ,” he snarled. He choked the monster like it’d choked him, growling in its face with an anger that wasn’t his and was still part of him. 

It shoved him away and Taako clawed at the door, trying to break the glass and kill it before it could kill him. 

“ _Yes_ ,” the monster shouted, so angry it nearly blew Taako off his feet. 

He rocked, uncertain. “Yes?” It came out wrong, he sounded so angry and mocking. Taako wasn’t angry, he was _terrified_. He was suddenly looking at himself, a shadow of a creature in his shape. 

_There’s something there_ , he realized with horror. He _felt_ the roil of the city moving his fingers without his will, beating against the glass, beating his heart. It was under his skin, inside his head and feeding on his blood. All the little puzzle pieces of overheard knowledge unfurled all at once. 

He stopped moving and the _thing_ tried to urge him, move him with anger.

The monster slithered over him again and Taako tried to grab onto it like a lifeline. Whatever it was, it was _out there_ and it broke whatever was in him, controlling him. It was so heavy that _thing_ that made him move and made him sleep could only writhe under its weight. 

_It will kill you,_ the city inside his heart tried to tell him. 

The truth was Taako would rather be dead than controlled. 

The thing in his head got weaker and weaker with each word. He closed his eyes and relished real sound on his lips. The feel of something under his fingers. A touch of pain in his shoulder.

The quiet of a world without a city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter. <3 Busy day today. Not really more of an excuse than that. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway!


	5. People I’d Like to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something new, something old, something sad in the way it was told.

The scream had everyone running forward. Even the director seemed to know a good opportunity when she saw one. Kravitz backed away, holding his mug of coffee up like a shield in front of his chest. Taako’s wild eyes found him in the crowd. He heaved forward, arm reaching towards Kravitz desperately as he broke the manacles holding him to the chair. “Kra-avi-itz,” he mouthed, seeming as surprised as Kravitz was. 

Kravitz froze like a deer in the headlights. He didn’t know how he’d understood Taako without hearing him. Then suddenly Taako was _there_. They were in a field he knew. When he was a teenager being moved around orphanages, he got to sneak off to watch the stars where flowers had overtaken Glamour Springs. 

They were laying on a rusted truck, the plaid blanket Kravitz had taken out nearly a decade before laid out across its hood. Taako was wearing a blue sundress, done up in makeup like the poster Lup had shown Kravitz just that morning. He sat up and gazed out into the overgrown city. Kravitz had seen this, seen Taako against the skyline of Glamour Springs and all that memory of a picture was gone save for him. Crickets and frogs sang among the grasses, all the world undisturbed for the people who’d passed through. 

“Oh,” Taako whispered, turning to Kravitz. Kravitz realized slowly that Taako had heard him in the same way he’d heard Taako. He’d heard the crickets and frogs and seen the skyline in his mind’s eye and known this was all that had come of Glamour Springs. 

Taako reached down and tugged the license plate from the truck. It swam, murky where Kravitz did not remember it as clearly as he had the stars dotting the sunset from his night out or the freckles peeking from under Taako’s makeup in the poster. “Oh,” Kravitz said this time, realizing they were still in Lup and Barry’s lab. 

And then he was laying on the ground, staring up at Barry. 

There was a pillow under his head. He glanced around. The film crew was gone and there was a stain on his shirt from the coffee. More time than he’d felt must have passed between point A and point Conscious. “Uhm,” he mumbled, rubbing his head. It was sore, but not too painful. 

“Let me help you up,” Barry said, and held out his arm for Kravitz to grab. Together, they managed to heft Kravitz back on his unsteady feet.

“Thanks,” Kravitz sighed, putting a hand over his eyes. “Do I want to ask what happened?” 

“I think I should be asking you that,” Barry answered, frown evident from his voice. “You and Taako fainted at the same time. I’ve never seen an infected patient in stage 6— _besides you_ —sleep.” 

“Stage 6?” Kravitz didn’t know why that stuck out to him. 

“It’s—” Barry cut himself off and paused. “Maybe we should find somewhere for you to sit down first.” 

Kravitz rubbed his temple, annoyed. He lifted his hand from his face. “I’m fine.” Behind Barry, zombies stared directly at him. He turned his head, eyes sweeping his surroundings. Every single zombie in the room was simply staring at where Taako had been seated. 

Barry put a hand on Kravitz’s shoulder. “I really think we should go upstairs,” he said slowly, calmly. 

Something had happened while he was out. Kravitz pursed his lips and let Barry lead him into the nice labs they’d passed on his first day there, six days and a lifetime ago. People Kravitz did and didn’t know were buzzing around the room. Doctors in lab coats that Kravitz hadn’t realized even worked here. The camera crew was there, but Carey was the only one filming now. Taako was isolated in a chair, head back, eyes closed and breathing deeply. All the activity orbited around him. 

His fingers twitched and Kravitz wondered if he was the only one who noticed.

‘ _Where did you go?_ ’

He lifted a hand to his temples, trying to figure out where that thought had come from.

“The next room,” Barry urged Kravitz into an exam room across from Taako’s; it was identical to the one from the first day. Another doctor noticed and made a beeline after them, catching the door before it closed behind Barry. 

“Hello,” she greeted, directing her attention mostly at Kravitz. Barry seemed unsurprised to see her and stood back, hands in his pockets. “I’m Lucretia. You’re Kravitz, right?” She held out her hand. 

Kravitz had the feeling she knew exactly who he was and she was being polite by asking. He took her hand slowly, glancing over at Barry. Lucretia’s hand was warm and a bandage adorned her wrist. “Yeah,” he answered, clasping his hands in his lap. 

“You’ve got an interesting case,” she said with a small smile. 

“So I’ve been told,” he said warily. Lucretia wasn’t the first doctor who had poked and prodded at him since they’d confirmed his diagnosis. 

_‘Too late.’_ Yet here he was.

She took a file out of a bag slung around her shoulder and flicked on the backlight of a monitor mounted on the wall. Then she stuck CT scans onto the monitor and pointed to a bump on the stem of the brain. “These are the scans Barry and Lup had you take a couple days ago,” she told him, tapping the bump again. “This should be T. subterdii. _The parasite._ It’s a healthy specimen. Underdeveloped where we would expect its brain.”

Kravitz frowned, not sure what to say. Did she want his opinion? 

“I have this theory,” she went on, turning to Kravitz. “That this _isn’t_ T. subterdii. It looks like T. subterdii, it talks like T. subterdii, but _you’re_ still talking to us. I want to call it T. sysdii. _Subterdii_ , bad Latin for secret of the gods. _Sysdii_ , together with the gods.” She smiled, catching Kravitz’s eye. 

“I-I’m not quite sure I follow,” he admitted softly, trying to process the information. 

“Do you know what an angler fish is?” 

He shifted uncomfortably, afraid of saying no but genuinely having zero idea what she was talking about. He was trying to keep up with the conversation as it was. “No,” he relented, crossing his arms and staring up at the picture of his brain. Barry was looking too, but seemed much more interested in what Lucretia was saying.

“It’s a deep sea fish. The females are big, scary. The males are tiny minnows in comparison,” she explained, sitting next to Kravitz. “They attach themselves to the female, like a parasite. After a while, their brain and body sort of disappear. All they leave behind are their testes, so the female can fertilize her eggs. Just a bump on her skin. Part of her and not.” 

She followed Kravitz’s eyes and looked up at the scan, too. “I think your friend, T. sysdii, is sort of a male angler fish. Without realizing it, when you talk you stimulate the parts of its brain we think they use to communicate.” She stood and placed another scan on the board, tapping little lights in the bump with a pencil. “Here.” 

Kravitz frowned down at his hands. “So I just happened to be infected with a special parasite a few days ago? That’s the thing no one has explained to me.”

“No,” Barry said slowly, taking a paper from his lab coat. He looked a little guilty, probably for not having explained things better. 

“This specimen,” Lucretia said, gesturing at the scans. “Is almost thirty years old by my guess.” She took out an x-ray of Kravitz’s skull, the _bump_ more prominent, tail wrapped around his spine. He winced away from the picture. Lucretia didn’t seem to notice. “It’s wound around your spinal cord. It does so twice in the first decade of its life, and once more for each subsequent decade. Her cute little tendril is just about to finish its fourth lap.” 

Kravitz tried to parse what she was saying, but it didn’t quite make sense. 

“I was able to get your birth certificate from the state,” Barry started, waving the paper vaguely. 

Kravitz’s head snapped up, pulse beating in his throat. “I don’t want to know,” he said quickly. Both of them frowned at Kravitz and he hated it. He swallowed thickly. “I don’t want to know who my parents are.” He never had, not really. They were probably dead and buried and Kravitz didn’t want to lose people he’d never been allowed to meet. Not now. Not like this. 

“Okay,” Barry agreed, putting the paper back into his coat. “I need to tell you where they’re from to explain what you’re going through. Is that okay?” Kravitz nodded, looking again at the scans as if they were the most important things in the room. “Your father was from Glamour Springs, like Taako. Taako is infected with a different type of the parasite, too; _T. celebredii._ Kind of a-a little joke.” He took a breath, smiling at Kravitz nervously. “Lup named it after she definitively proved the outbreak in Glamour Springs was a whole different class of infection.”

“And that is important because—?” Kravitz urged, a little exasperated. 

“Er, well,” Barry blustered, looking at the slides and touching their edges to busy his hands. “ _T. celebredii_ is highly mutable. Your father was probably infected by someone with it and ended up with _T. sysdii_. He then infected your mother, who in turn infected you while you were still a fetus. You’ve been infected your entire life, Kravitz.” He finally turned around, something like excitement coloring his face. “Normally, the parasite can’t reproduce in living people. It’s why it takes over its host to lower the body temperature and seeks more people to infect. _T. sysdii_ is producing eggs in your system just fine.” 

“It’s _what_?” Kravitz stared at Barry, waiting for the punchline. Lucretia shook her head, smiling.

“D-don’t worry, the eggs are blank,” Barry tried to assure him. “They’ll never hatch. But your parents must have forms of the parasite that can. W-what’s important is we can harvest the eggs from your blood or saliva and use it to make-make a _vaccine_ , Kravitz. A _vaccine_.”

Kravitz’s heart nearly stopped right there. 

“No one ever has to be infected again,” Lucretia smiled, holding out a sheet of paper to Kravitz. He looked down at it, only really able to parse the long list of negatives. “These are results from my blood tests. It’ll take more time to finish a vaccine for general deployment, but I injected myself with a prototype vaccine the minute I made it from the samples Lup and Barry sent. Then I tested it.” She tapped the bandage on her wrist. “More of an accident. I was going to go about it _properly_ , but one of my patients happened to have good timing. _This_ was three days ago, Kravitz.” 

“Oh,” he said slowly, lifting his eyes up to the scans on the monitor. He let it wash over him. Like waking up from a long, long nightmare. Burdens he’d been carrying all his life fell away and slipped from his grasp. 

_No one ever has to be infected again._

He closed his eyes, tears threatening to fall. Those rows and rows of people downstairs could go home, could find their families, could mend things that’d been broken long before they’d been given a chance to fix them. A part of him wondered who he’d find if he went _home_ , too, if he took that piece of paper from Barry and _looked_. 

The truth was, he’d always known he’d been born in WAP. It was right in his name, down to the zip code it started with. He saw himself again on the hill overlooking Glamour Springs. The truck that faced the city next to a crumbling hospital. So much was ruined and lost and gone. There was no one there for Kravitz. He’d decided right then that he wouldn’t spend his lifetime trying to lose whatever hope he still had that he had a _family_. 

Taako had seen the remains of that city with him. 

He’d seen the flowers and the rain and the stars and the sunset. They’d felt the wind, carrying the mountains down the valley. Together, they’d looked anew upon Glamour Springs. Kravitz choked and covered his face. Barry patted his back comfortingly. 

“ _Oh_ ,” he heard again, the memory of a memory. “ _Oh_ ,” because it was beautiful and new. “ _Oh_.” 

Against the skyline of the city, Taako had been the only thing not ruined or lost or gone from that world that could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!! <3 All your comments make me so happy. I’m so glad you guys are enjoying this. ;;


	6. Blue in an Ocean of Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are right where you need to be.

The sunset shimmered on the horizon, darkness dipping into the shape of its light like an inverted city skyline. The grasses rustled in the wind, flowers waking under his touch. It’d changed since Taako had come here. He knew this was what Glamour Springs looked like back out there, wherever it was that he wasn’t. The land changed by his touch, by his wants and his own memories. 

The monster had led him here and left. Hours had passed and Taako let himself rest, let himself feel nothing but the breath of wind and crickets in the blooms. 

It came again and sat beside him where he lay in the grass. He turned his head, studying its profile. It looked _almost_ like an old friend of his, but if Glamour Springs had grown old and died, then so too his old friend must have. “You’re Death, aren’t you?” 

The monster laughed, loud and sudden. “W-what?” It looked down at him, handsome smile too nervous to be his old friend’s. Its words washed over him like the distant tremor of an earthquake. 

“This is the afterlife or whatever,” he summarized, gesturing around them. “I was in a coma and then I died. That’s why you came, why you led me here.” 

“Uhm,” it started, lacing its fingers in its lap. It looked around nervously. “I-I’m not— Why are you here?” Its voice shook the grasses like wind, sweeping Taako’s hair from his face.

Taako’s ears flicked in annoyance. If he was dead, he just wanted to be at peace already, not answering riddles. Maybe it was some bullshit about accepting his death. He turned his head to the sky and closed his eyes. The city, of course, endless wandering and endless streets. He’d been doing a movie. 

He opened his eyes and took a breath. They were in his apartment; he was holding his keys and a coffee. The monster stood down the hall in a bellhop uniform, looking around as if alarmed. “I went to work,” he said slowly, turning and locking the door. He started down the hall, retracing his steps. “It was my birthday. April 1st.” 

“The Outbreak,” the monster whispered, looking increasingly worried. 

Taako heard him with every molecule of his being, felt the breath in his throat and where it touched his lips. He put a hand over his mouth as if to catch the ghost of his words. “The _what_?” 

The scene changed to Taako’s dressing room. He was in his makeup chair and the monster held a powdered brush to his cheek. It pulled back, looking flustered and a little scared. “Sorry,” it said automatically, its words trailing through Taako’s lungs. “Where are we? How are you doing this?”

Taako hugged himself, shivering and closing his eyes. “The studio I worked at. What do you mean, how am I doing this? I thought _you_ were doing this.” He pointed his finger at Death in a vaguely accusing way. 

“No,” it said, voice spilling from Taako’s mouth and down the column of his throat. He swallowed thickly, lips parting. “I’m not doing this.” He felt the flick of its tongue along the roof of his mouth.

He opened his eyes, the monster’s stupidly handsome face too close to his. This was why his old friend had been famous, but this monster— _Death_ —lacked Fynn’s confidence, his candor. _Probably not as much of an asshole either_ , he thought to himself. Death’s cheeks warmed under the attention. “Right,” he agreed without meaning to, disarmed. 

“Let’s take it step-by-step,” it said, tenor sweeping the room they were in. 

Taako impulsively clapped a hand over the monster’s mouth, putting another over his own heart and taking deep breaths. “Please stop talking,” he growled, embarrassed. He could feel his ears twitching against his head. “It’s—Whatever you say is sort of a full body experience for me and it’s _really_ weird.” 

“Oh,” the monster mumbled against the palm of his hand and Taako felt it shiver all the way up his arm, pooling warmth at his cheeks. His ears stood to attention and then folded back. “Sor—” 

“Stop!” Taako jerked his hand away as if burned, turning his chair to face the wall. It was altogether too pleasant for those vibrations to be thrumming up his body. 

The monster came around to his front with a note that said, ‘ _Sorry. I didn’t realize._ ’ 

“It’s fine,” Taako sighed, rubbing his cheek. It wasn’t fine, but no one had warned him Death had puppy dog eyes. He didn’t have an arsenal to fight _that_. At least not on short notice. 

He really was far too gay to die. 

He redirected his attention to the matter at hand. “Why does it matter how this is happening? I’m dead anyway.” 

Death seemed to think for a minute before coming back with another note for Taako to read. ‘ _You’re not dead. You’re asleep. I am, too._ ’

Taako read that first part over again, ‘ _You’re not dead._ ’ He looked up at the monster, frowning. “Then who the hell _are_ you?” 

The monster looked away, but picked up its pencil dutifully. ‘ _My name is Kravitz,_ ’ it wrote, ‘ _Like the actor._ ’ Taako felt it writing, heard the words in his head. It wasn’t overwhelming, but he didn’t think he’d need to read the note. _Kravitz_ paused, looking up at him. He looked down at his paper and wrote, ‘ _I’m from Glamour Springs like you are._ ’ 

They were there, in the grass and the weeds. Taako finally turned and looked behind the truck, up to the crumbling hospital. 

“I’m not from Glamour Springs,” he said without thinking. Kravitz startled, looking up at him, and they were right back in Taako’s dressing room, as if they’d never left. “Uh,” Taako hesitated, drumming his fingers on the arm of his makeup chair. “I can hear you, uh, writing. Not like when you talk.”

Kravitz opened his mouth as if to reply and then stopped himself, blowing out a breath. It brushed Taako’s hair from his shoulders. He picked up his pencil again. ‘ _You can hear this?_ ’ He looked up at Taako expectantly. 

“Yeah,” Taako answered with a weak thumbs-up. “Your name is Kravitz. Like the actor.” Which meant he _wasn’t_ Fynn Kravitz. 

Kravitz nodded, then looked down at the paper again. ‘ _I’m not really from Glamour Springs, either. I was just born there._ ’ 

“How old are you?” Taako had _really_ meant to curb his curiosity, but he couldn’t help it. 

Frowning, Kravitz scratched the corner of his jaw in thought. ‘ _26, I think. I can’t remember the exact year right now._ ’

“You’re older than me,” Taako said, genuinely surprised. 

Kravitz gave him a wry smile and then wrote, ‘ _I really doubt that._ ’ 

“I’m 24,” Taako glared at Kravitz. Kravitz covered his grin and looked away. _Little shit_ , Taako thought. “ _Fine_ , I’m 25 but that’s still younger.” Kravitz laughed, looking at Taako under his lashes. Taako felt like Kravitz had sanded off the edges of his mock anger. The man was cute, _too_ cute. 

‘ _What year were you born?_ ’ 

Taako tilted his head curiously. “1927,” he answered easily, wondering why it would make a difference at all. 

‘ _I was born in 1957_ ,’ Kravitz wrote, immediately looking up at Taako for a reaction. 

“That’s not for another four years,” Taako said without really thinking. Then, he thought about it for a moment. If he’d been in a coma for some time then maybe years had gone by. “Wait,” he murmured, struggling to wrap his mind around the numbers. It made perfect but no sense all at once. “It’s 1983?” 

Kravitz’s smile dimmed, but he nodded. ‘ _I could be off a year or two. I haven’t been in a government building for a while, but it was 1982 last time I looked at a calendar._ ’ He looked over Taako once, like he was sorry for telling him. ‘ _You’ve been asleep for a long time._ ’ 

Glamour Springs had been gone long enough to be taken over again by nature. Of course Taako had been asleep for a long time. He’d missed so much. The thing he caught onto was that Kravitz didn’t know the date. Taako’s phone had kept him and most of the world obsessed with time. 

Taako stood up and sat at the counter next to Kravitz. “What happened to your phone? Do they not have those anymore?” 

“Mm”, Kravitz hummed under his breath like Taako had given him a hard question. It whispered against his skin. When Taako followed his line of sight, he saw an old military base. It buzzed with workers in army green, navy blue, and on the wall was an old red phone in a glass case, two guards standing before it. This was Kravitz’s memory, Taako realized and frowned. This was what he thought of when he thought of phones. ‘ _We have them,_ ’ he wrote, ‘ _but not like you did in movies._ ’ The mirror in the dressing room reflected one of Taako’s movies, him turning a phone on and off anxiously. 

Taako leaned into Kravitz’s space, looking at the paper he’d been writing on. “You said you’re asleep, too?” His handwriting was neat with superfluous swirls.

Kravitz looked away, suddenly shy. “Yeah,” he whispered, the words kissing Taako’s skin like the sun. Catching himself, he gave Taako an apologetic look. ‘ _Sorry,_ ’ he wrote, ‘ _Yes. I went to sleep in my own bed and suddenly I was sitting next to you._ ’

“Before, too, you were in the city and in a chair and my hands were around your— and then we were on the grass,” Taako said quietly. 

“You remember that?” Kravitz grabbed his hand, his fear shooting right down Taako’s spine. “You remember choking me?” 

“Sort of,” Taako whispered, trying to free his hand to escape Kravitz’s sudden intensity. “I don’t know why I did it.” He looked down at his hands, suddenly scared of himself. He’d forgotten. How had he forgotten looking at himself and realizing something else was in his head? “Something was controlling me.” 

Kravitz’s hand tightened around his. “It’s—” His lips moved but there were no words.

Taako felt the whole world shake. It trembled and it fell apart. He covered his mouth so he wouldn’t scream as he pitched forward into the darkness. 

And then he was lying on his back in the grass in a blue sundress, staring up at the stars.

Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter!! Some things answered and yet.... ;p


	7. Ever-Living Ghost of What Once Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broken children growing up to build broken people with toolboxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a good bit of the gore in the entire story. It's got some dark, existential thinking about guilt and what it means for zombies to be sentient when you've be taught your entire life that they are things to be killed or be killed by. 
> 
> Not people. 
> 
> That can be a tough line of thinking for some people, so this is a warning that this chapter is dealing with some of these sobering themes. (But much like the rest of this story, it cannot be "solved" in one chapter, one moment of someone's life.)

An alarm sounded distantly. 

Kravitz’s eyes snapped open and he stared at the ceiling. He sat up, looking down at his hand as if Taako’s would still be in it. It had felt real and true. Not a dream. 

Magnus rushed past the open doorway of the barracks Kravitz was staying in. His armor clanked on the tile. Kravitz wondered if it was Taako trying to escape again, but a part of him knew Taako was still asleep upstairs. 

_No_ , Taako was on the grass beside him. 

His skin prickled, hair rising on his arms. 

_Kravitz?_

Kravitz jerked away from whatever part of Taako he felt lying next to him. He forced himself to his feet, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Shit,” he whispered under his breath. None of this was real. He knew none of it could be real. “I’m losing my fucking mind.” 

He laughed bitterly and grabbed some of his borrowed clothes, making his way to the bathroom. It was communal, but Kravitz didn’t care. He’d never had the luxury of a private bath. One of the doctors was there, getting ready for the morning too. He gave Kravitz a curious glance. He definitely knew who Kravitz was. 

At least the guy gave Kravitz the courtesy of quiet this early. 

After he was clean, he went back to his room to find his shoes. On the way, he passed a calendar pinned to the wall. He backed up and started to look it over. Kravitz was admittedly curious about the date after his dream the night before.

It was March 7th, 1984.

He’d only been off a few months from the year. In the corner, someone had written ‘ _Lucretia’s birthday!_ ’ with a little circle around it. Slowly, he lifted the page to the next month. 

It confirmed his fears. 

Kravitz didn’t try to think about it. He packed some fruit into a bag and then made his way outside. He kept waiting for someone to try to stop him. He knew he wasn’t a prisoner, but this was the first time he’d left the facility in the week since he’d checked himself in. 

This town was almost entirely unfamiliar. A long time ago, they’d called it _Boston_ , and that name was still carved on signs and statues. All the signs that mattered named this place _Safe Zone 7_. It wasn’t a busy town, but it was pretty. They’d knocked down any building that had been crumbling and let nature take the space. It cleared the view to the bay, old ships rusting in 7’s harbor. He didn’t really know where he was going, but let his feet take him wherever seemed most interesting. 

It wasn’t long before he saw something that sparked some recognition. He circled it several times before standing under it, staring up in awe. The Old South Meeting House’s tower had managed to stay upright without the rest of the building. A tree supported it in place of any pillar. It was taller than anything else in the immediate area. He knew it only from the petitions keeping it from being bulldozed that he’d signed several times while he was still in Safe Zone 8. 

Kravitz had always wondered why it was important, but if someone cared enough to save it every year then it probably deserved to stay standing. 

He stood under the boughs of the tree that held it. Impulsively, he stole a blossom and put it in his hair. He looked around guiltily, catching the eye of an old woman who only laughed at him. Face warming, he took off down the broken street. 

There were enough cracks in his path to keep his eyes firmly on the ground, but his mind wandered back to last night. He couldn’t even begin to guess what his dream had been. It had the surreal quality of a nightmare with a touch too much of the mundane to be dismissed as a bad dream. He hadn’t been _scared_. Confused and bewildered, sure, but certainly not scared.

_“It was my birthday. April 1st.”_

If it was _just_ a dream, how had he known Taako’s birthday? It _was_ the day of the Outbreak. It was entirely possible his brain’s random subconscious processing happened to be right. 

Kravitz sighed, exasperated with himself. This was an inordinate amount of energy to put towards nothing more than a dream after a weird day. 

Even if it wasn’t a dream, it wouldn’t help anything. Kravitz knew well enough to keep his mouth shut and his head down. He couldn’t imagine what they’d want to try on him if he revealed he was somehow mind-melding with Taako. They might even start to believe Taako’s sleeping state was his fault. 

That was how you got killed. 

Eventually, he found himself at the harbor. He leaned against the railing, staring down at the dark water. Slowly, he reached into his bag and picked out an apple. His voice found him before he really knew what he was doing.

“ _Mm, the good life lets you hide all the sadness you feel_ ,” [he sang to the water](https://youtu.be/Sdrg7ayezXo).

Honestly, he had been too embarrassed to sing at all when he’d been tucked away in the facility. During patrols, he was strictly banned by some officer or another from singing. _Riled the zombies up too much._ The moment they got out of earshot, some soldier would ask him for a song. 

Something about what New York had been before it was haunting towers of vines only host to birds and colonies of cats. Maybe something about the season or a song about a lover. Whatever it was, Kravitz always had a tune to answer his coworker’s requests. 

Music was just one of the things they had to ration. 

Bubbles boiled up from the ocean. Blinking, Kravitz stopped singing and squinted down at the water. Nothing was there for a moment, then motion and light caught his attention.

A barnacled hand clawed at the wharf, peeling and bloated. The gold ring on its finger twinkling in the light, dulled by time and the sea. Another hand appeared to be embedded in the wall. More bubbles, and he finally noticed the horrific face of a drowned sailor, eyes blank and rotting. Its mouth was moving as if it too could sing.

He flinched back from the water, squatting on the pavement with his face in his hands. 

“ _You remember choking me?_ ”

“ _Sort of._ ”

He closed his eyes, rocking for a moment on his heels. Kravitz knew there was nothing he could do. Not without putting the poor man out of his misery. If he killed the sailor, he could never be cured.

It hit him all at once. They could only bring back people who were healthy. He stopped himself from thinking about there _never_ being a cure, instead focusing on the horror that man would feel. Water did things to a body that they could never undo. 

This didn’t have to be his responsibility. There were probably thousands of people drowning like this man. Thousands drowning for decades. 

“ _Sort of._ ”

Forget the body, what had it done to his _mind_? 

He looked around slowly and saw a rusted pipe. It was long enough to do what he’d done a hundred times to people who could have been saved. He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to clear his thoughts. 

This wasn’t about him, was it? 

He couldn’t redeem himself by killing the _right_ people. Kravitz reached past the pipe to a torn garbage bag flopping in the wind. He tied it off to the railing above the sailor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, for not knowing enough and for making him suffer longer. 

‘ _Sorry_ ,’ the drowned man mouthed. 

Breakfast forgotten, Kravitz made his way back to the facility. He tried not to let guilt weigh his every step. Over and over, he told himself he didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. 

All of those _zombies_ had looked like people, sounded like people, and been loved by people. Yet, Kravitz had killed them with little more thought than swatting a fly. The line between a person and a monster had always been thin. What did it say about him that he’d looked at people and only seen a monster that needed to die? 

Had they suffered? Were they conscious when Kravitz ended their life? Did they understand what he was doing, or what they had done? 

Was it them or the parasite that had felt death creep, black and cold? 

He stopped just outside the facility to catch his breath. The brick was cool and calming against his cheek. No one ever had to be infected again, he reminded himself. He knew now, and he could only move forward from there. 

_They would have found the vaccine two decades earlier if you hadn’t been such a crybaby back then._

He turned, letting his curls tangle in the brick as he glared at the horizon. _No,_ he thought. No, they would have just killed him instead of Kravitz. It wasn’t a happy truth, but he needed to be honest with himself. Lup had convinced him that what he had in his head was unique, even if close relatives had something similar. 

Barry was behind the receptionist desk and smiled up at him when he finally opened the door. “Nice day for a walk,” he said idly, marking his place in a book. 

“Barry,” Kravitz greeted, setting his bag aside. “I think someone needs your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted a little early since tomorrow might be busy for me!
> 
> I updated the [fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3WLhSYCB3UPrYZp7vCtUKp) with a few more songs. While they're not necessarily in order of chapters, this chapter falls somewhere between The Moss by Cosmo Sheldrake and One of Us by Mystery Skulls. Hope you guys are enjoying it!


	8. The Kindness of Strangers for Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation and an unexpected answer to an old question, “What’s the answer?”

“Tell me again.” 

Lup stared Kravitz down. He almost squirmed under the attention. She was deadly serious. Kravitz had been too light on the details of what happened. He couldn’t lie to save his life, but he’d need to learn real quick if he wanted to keep avoiding her questions. 

“Our eyes met,” Kravitz mumbled, eyes flitting to the side where the dental records were. “I-I thought I heard him say something. Then I woke up and Barry was there.” 

“ _Bullshit_ ,” Lup scowled and slammed her clipboard down. Kravitz jumped at the sound, turning his head to the door. “Why aren’t you telling me the truth?” 

“I’m not lying to—”

“Stop,” Lup said coldly, crossing her arms. “Taako is in a coma. It’s been _two days_ and he hasn’t woken up _once_. I want to know why you won’t even come up to the exam rooms. I want to know what you did to him.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Kravitz stood up, looking like he might make a run for it. “I-I don’t really understand what happened, either.”

“Then stop lying to us and _tell me_ ,” she said, sounding more desperate than angry. “ _I_ can’t do _anything_ if I don’t know what’s happening to _my brother_.” 

Kravitz seemed to deflate, crossing his arms and leaning against the filing cabinet. “I’ll sound insane,” he said to Lup, as if it was some last line of defense. 

“Well, we don’t know what the long-term effects of having your brain stem replaced by parasite are yet. Maybe you are. Can’t know until we investigate it,” she said to lighten the mood. 

Kravitz’s shoulders sagged like she’d just thrown three tons onto whatever burdens he was already carrying. “Right,” he mumbled, partially under his breath. He clasped and unclasped his hands then finally sat down, staring at the floor. 

“Kravitz,” she said gently, “Whatever happened, we’ll take it piece by piece, yeah?” 

“I think Taako and I talked,” he blurted, looking up to search Lup’s face.

A million thoughts floated through her mind. Lup knew what she must look like, slack-jaw and completely surprised. Honestly, she hadn’t known what she expected to hear when Kravitz told her the truth. She shut down her thoughts to focus. “You’d mentioned when you both fainted you thought he said something to you?” 

“No, no,” Kravitz corrected, hands waving in vague impatience. “When I— _we_ fainted, we were in Glamour Springs. In this place I know. All he said was ‘ _oh_ ’ and then-then that night, I was right back there. We talked. For a long time. He thought he’d been in a coma for a year. That it was 1954. He showed me things, things I don’t think I would have known otherwise. His birthday is the Outbreak, April 1st. I saw on the calendar.”

Lup grabbed the nearest blank sheet of paper and started scribbling down everything Kravitz was saying. Luckily, she didn’t need to prod him to keep going.

“He remembered choking me. Remembered realizing something was controlling him,” Kravitz said quickly, his hands telling as much of the story as his words. “He didn’t like when I talked in the dream. He said it was a ‘ _full body experience_ ’ for him. I don’t know what he meant by that. I wrote instead and he said he could hear it without reading it and it didn’t feel bad to him. Uhm. That’s all. I think.”

Lup scribbled down the rest of what Kravitz had said then sat back, staring down at her notes. “Okay. How did you feel?” 

“Scared,” he said immediately, then seemed to reconsider. “No, m-more like I was anticipating _something_. Something bad. I don’t know why. It got better? It went away towards the end, when he asked me how old I was. He—he’s—It’s not important, but it made me laugh and I-I forgot. Forgot being scared for a minute. I wasn’t scared after that.” 

Lup wrote all of it down. It felt important, but she didn't have enough context yet. “How did he show you things?” 

“It was like a dream,” Kravitz said, sounding distant. “The world kept changing around us. L-like when I told him what year I was born, I saw a chalkboard behind him. Saw him do the math in his head to figure out what year it is. I think that’s what it was anyway. What he was seeing when he did it.” 

“How do you know it _wasn’t_ a dream?” 

It was the obvious question. Kravitz’s eyes cleared and his posture changed. He looked her in the eyes. “You stuck me in your archives. I looked up what you had on Taako. Little things, but things I noticed. Things I couldn’t have known if he didn’t show me. His apartment number, 634. His birthday, April 1st. You put the picture he had on his mirror in one of your files, but not the note he kept next to it. The only part I read was, ‘ _Good luck, Koko. Love, Lulu._ ’”

Lup’s eyes stung at the nickname. Taako was the only one allowed to call her that and Barry was the only person alive who would know about it. 

_Love, Lulu._

Whatever connection Kravitz had made with Taako was real. 

Taako could still be alive. _Really_ alive. There was hope that he could wake up. She tried to temper her excitement. “Okay, what about last night? Did you talk to him again?”

“U-uhm,” Kravitz laughed nervously, scratching the side of his face. 

_Right_. She could see it now. “You didn’t sleep, did you?” 

“No-o,” he answered and picked back up his coffee. “I was a little too, uhm, freaked out?” 

Lup sighed, tapping her pen against her paper impatiently. “Well, thank you for telling me, Kravitz. I think we should take some steps to figure out what’s going on. Like, if we separate you two outside the parasite’s communication radius will Taako wake up?”

“I already thought of that,” he admitted softly. “After that thing with the sailor, I walked about eight miles to the edges of 7 and stayed put for an hour. Well outside of the five mile radius.”

“Sharp,” she smiled. She’d noticed before that Kravitz was quick on the uptake and it seemed he’d been paying attention, too. “Wouldn’t have happened to be around—” Lup grabbed a file off the top of the cabinet and flipped a few pages before finishing her thought, “14:32? When you hit the five mile radius?” 

Kravitz looked up thoughtfully. “What time was sunset?” 

Right, Kravitz didn’t think about time the same way she did. “Sunset started right about 19:00 yesterday.” 

“14:30 sounds close,” he agreed after a moment. “Why? What happened?”

“Nothing Taako did outwardly, at least,” she said with a shrug. “The rest of the patients seemed to get restless and Taako had a slight spike in his heartbeat. It lasted for about two hours, which would account for the time when you were gone.”

“Ah,” Kravitz frowned. “I’m sorry, I hope it didn’t cause any problems.” 

“No, it didn’t, but it could mean you’re subconsciously communicating with the rest of the— pack? Hive?” she said, more to herself than Kravitz. “Enough to ping them regularly so they notice when you’re gone and find you important enough to have any reaction at all.” 

Kravitz made a face at that news. She knew he wasn’t too thrilled about the parasite in his head. Even if she didn’t yet know why _Taako_ could speak to Kravitz and not any of the other patients. It could be the species difference between Taako and the rest, but all of them had reacted. 

“Why me?” 

Lup looked back at Kravitz curiously, waiting for him to clarify.

“I mean,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why do they care if _I_ leave? Do they care if any of the others leave?” 

“That’s a very good question,” she grinned, standing and grabbing one of the walkie talkies off the wall. “I’ll call in Magnus for a transport to Lucretia’s facility. I also wanna do an EEG on you while we do the transport. Let’s see if _you_ react at all.” 

There was of course an underlying question to what Kravitz had asked. He wanted to know why he got to live and so many other people _hadn’t_. She couldn’t answer that for him. 

No one could.

She smiled at the pile of boxes around the room. “How are the dental records going, by the way?” 

“Uhm,” Kravitz startled a bit, as if his mind had been somewhere completely different. “I think I found him. In the Navy records, of course.” He looked down at his hands with a sad sort of smile. “The records say his wife lived here back in Prend, but I imagine the chances of her still being here are _slim_. His brother might be a good lead, though.”

“They might still be here. Keep up the good work,” Lup told him encouragingly. “Not a lot of people get to be laid to rest with a name these days. Even less get a goodbye from the ones they loved.” 

Kravitz nodded and glanced down at the folder on the nearby desk. She knew her little pep talk was all she could offer. This would probably be a casefile that haunted him. 

She gave him a pat on the shoulder and left him to finish his work. 

Lup’s conversation with Kravitz felt like something of a breakthrough. In the oldest known infected patient in medical care, they had signs of life. Signs of conscious thought and expression. 

A conversation. 

From halfway across their little facility, Kravitz had talked to her brother in dreams. It sounded wild, but they knew the parasites communicated over long distances. They would tell each other things in enough detail that guiding a parasite across the city to one cache of food would lead to all the ones recently in communication with that parasite immediately stepping through complex puzzles they simply weren’t smart enough to solve on their own. 

Adding human comprehension and imagination to that communication could mean anything. 

Lup walked down the hall until she got to the terminal she’d been logged into earlier. She typed out some of her thoughts. If they had reacted to Kravitz going far enough away they couldn’t hear him, that in itself was unusual. Her researchers separated parasites to better understand the ways they communicated and functioned, but they seemed indifferent to other parasites beyond a utility of alerting each other to problems or prey. 

She rubbed her temples and cast her eyes on one of the rarely touched files on her computer, labeled ‘ _Sazed_ ’. 

It’d been a gift from Davenport years ago. A risk in itself to exist outside of the state’s computers, but it self-destructed if you even tried to hit print. Most of the files were corrupted beyond readability, others protected with 5 attempts before destruction. Still, some had been extracted, which had led to them even realizing the parasites were designed to communicate, something he or someone on his team called a ‘ _safety mechanism_ ’. 

She’d gotten a long way on her own without any of Sazed’s notes. 

Slowly, she dug her phone out of her pocket, asking if she was really so desperate as to fall back on the notes of a truly mad scientist. She spun in her chair, staring at the ceiling. Maybe she was just as arrogant, wanting to prove Sazed wrong. 

Prove he hadn’t really known what he’d been making.

Finally, she gave in and tapped the side of her temple next to her good eye. The old implant whirred as it woke up from its long slumber. She shooed away all the notifications about network errors that appeared around her, clicking into Sazed’s file. 

There were six different protected files under a folder called ‘`safe-lock`’. All but one had proper names like ‘ _Observations on Anatomical Structure_ ’ or ‘ _Ethical Considerations of Symbiotic Organisms in Modern Medicine_ ’. 

Then there was the biggest file, ‘`sol-fjk19530325`’. 

The date itself had been enough to grab their attention. March 25th, 1953, a few days before the Outbreak. It had two attempts left. She closed her eyes and brought it up on the screen. 

She suddenly had a good idea what ‘ _fjk_ ’ stood for. 

‘`FynnKravitz`,’ she typed on her phone. 

It thought for a painfully long moment before erring red. 

`1 attempt(s) left`

Spinning in her chair, she considered if she wanted to burn her last attempt, here and now. A part of her would be relieved not to have this file hanging over her head. If they’d just known, maybe they could have stopped everything decades ago. 

She looked up at the tiles, tracing the pattern in their textured path. Finally, she threw caution to the wind and typed in what she thought was the most fitting end for Sazed’s legacy.

`Taako`

The loading button spun and then it folded open, the implant in her eyes feeding her the image of the open box, stuffed to the brim with reels of film. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, phone over her heart. _Of course_ the answer had always been _Taako_. 

Sazed was entirely predictable and terribly arrogant. 

The films were blank, corrupted like most files. She shifted through them, looking for any documents, anything viable. 

A small email memo fell onto the counter, glitching in and out of existence. She grabbed it and her grip loosened the more she read.

`All operations are to cease immediately. See attached link.`

` [htp2s://tiny@raincoat/repo?lname=Kravitz&pub=true/edit](https://raincoat.thezone.zone) `

`Password: 402934u&i90`

`All non-emergency personnel are to be evacuated immediately from Glamour Springs Site 2B and be transported to Site 642.`

`Emergency Personnel: Recall all patients and prepare to activate attached BlankDevice. Contact local emergency services. All non-disclosure agreements are null and void due to`

`Dr. Sazed de Greyurn`  
`Chief of Organism Development`  
`Raincoat`  
`5720 Raincoat Ave, Glamour Springs CA`

`t: 3029-1100-4920-1 e: sazed.greyurn@email&&raincoat`

The email ended as suddenly as it began. It was to be sent to everyone working at Raincoat, from janitor to CEO. There were no attachments.

It had never been sent.

Lup realized slowly that all of these films had been uploaded to the given URL. She took a deep breath, hooked into whatever remained of the network, and said a silent prayer that their servers still existed somewhere on WAP holdings. There was a chance there was something important in whatever was left.

The page started to load.

It took her a moment to realize—if the dates were right—some of these were recorded _after_ the Outbreak. Sazed had died Day 1 of the new world, April 1st, 1953. The last file was dated October 22nd, 1958. A year to the day after the Kravitz just down the hall was born. 

These weren’t Sazed’s files. These were Kravitz’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy. 
> 
> The next chapter will be.... a little weird!


	9. My Heart's Like Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of files and the one person who knows what's going on.

`fgkinterview19530301.crtrivisn`

Corrupted.

`fgkinterview19530302.crtrivisn`

Corrupted.

`fgkinterview19530303.crtrivisn`

Missing or unknown ����������������. 

`fgkinterview19530304.crtrivisn`

Corrupted. 

`fgkinterview19530305.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530306.crtrivisn`

Corrupted. 

`fgkinterview19530307.crtrivisn`

Corrupted. 

`fgkinterview19530308.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530309.crtrivisn`

Corrupted. 

`fgkinterview19530310.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530311.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530312.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530313.crtrivisn`

“Interview with Mr. F. Kravitz,” the doctor said, more for the camera than him. “Inoculated with Org-Gold from plate 593.” 

Kravitz smiled weakly from his hospital bed and gave a small wave,his head shaven and his scars fresh. He was hardly camera-ready.

“Mr. Kravitz,” the doctor began, standing just off-camera. “You awoke this morning from a coma induced by blunt force trauma, correct?”

“So I’m told,” he answered, looking down at his hands. He turned them over, palm up. “Died for a moment, then I was on life support.” The only machine beside his bed was a heart monitor. Its line silently, evenly pulsed.

“Do you know how you awoke?” 

“No,” Kravitz said, eyes turning offscreen. “Dr. Scott explained that he wasn’t sure I’d ever wake up. He said there’s mild swelling in my skull, something about my eyes, but everything seems normal. ‘Miracle of the human body.’”

There was a glint in his eyes, like someone laying a trap. 

“What do you remember from the accident?” 

“Nothing,” he said with the smile he was famous for. “It’s the damnedest thing, but I can’t remember a single second of that night.”

`fgkinterview19530314.crtrivisn`

“Interview with Mr. F. Kravitz,” the doctor said. “Inoculated with Org-Gold from plate 593.” 

Kravitz was dressed in a suit. The jacket was gone, but he looked much better than just the day previous. He rolled up his cuff, staring down at his hands. 

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Kravitz?” 

“Good,” he said, flexing his hand. “The doctor—the _other_ doctor said I shouldn’t have recovered full use of my motor functions yet, but look—” He pulled a coin out of the air with a deft twirl of his fingers. “Like nothing happened. They told me I can go home tomorrow. Do I still need to come down to U Avenue and see you folks every day?”

“Yes.”

“Thought so,” he sighed, flipping the coin and catching it. “Your boys down at the lab did something to me, didn’t they?” The doctor remained silent. “I wish I could thank you, but I’m not interested in being a _rat_.”

He tossed the coin and caught it again, looking off-camera at the doctor. 

`fgk-sdg19530315.audieu`

No image appeared, leaving their reflections peering back from the monitor. 

“Hello? Fynn speaking.” 

“Hello, Mr. Kravitz. This is Dr. de Greyurn from Raincoat.” 

“Ah, yes. What can I do for you, doctor?” 

“I’ve called to request you have zero contact with Mr. Taako Amaiat.”

“Any specific reason?” 

“Yes, but none I can tell you.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“It is _imperative_ you do not contact Mr. Amaiat. In person, by voice, even a letter is—”

“This feels highly inappropriate, Sazed.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Kravitz?”

“He’s a friend. Don’t mix business and pleasure, _doc_.”

_Click._

`fgkinterview19530315.crtrivisn`

“Interview with Mr. F. Kravitz,” the doctor said. “Inoculated with Org-Gold from plate 593. The specimen in the box is a lab-grown Org-Silver from plate 56.” 

The room was white, white-tiled and white-walled. A black table sat in the center under bright, fluorescent lights. Kravitz sat perfectly still in a hard metal chair, staring down at the box in front of him. It looked like it was made of black glass. Something was moving inside. 

“Mr. Kravitz, please speak.”

“About what?” He glanced up from the box, unsure of what they wanted him to say. 

“Anything.”

He put on a small smile. “Well, that’s not very much direction is it?” The doctor remained silent. “I suppose I could recite Shakespeare. Maybe sing Sinatra?” 

The doctor remained silent. 

“Do you know what ‘ _do not resuscitate_ ’ means when you put it on a legal document?” he asked with a pretty flutter of his lashes. “Or did my father pay you enough to forget? I’m joking, I’m joking! You look so sour.” He laughed, running a hand over the scar on his face. “I am still curious how I managed to find myself in miraculously good health after a crash like that.”

“You said you didn’t remember the crash, Mr. Kravitz.”

“And you believed—?”

The thing inside the box hissed. Kravitz flinched back from it. He stood up and his chair tumbled to the floor as he backed away to the wall. It clattered loudly on the white tile floor. “What the fuck is that?!” 

“Calm down, Mr. Kravitz. There is nothing in this room that can harm you.” 

“Tell that to that fucking thing!” he snarled, following along the wall until he was in the corner. His eyes were wide, too wide; black to the sclera. He turned into the corner, hiding his face. 

Something moved under the skin at the nape of his neck. 

He remained there, face hidden in the corner, until two masked doctors entered the room to remove the box. Once it was gone, Kravitz slumped to the floor, face buried in his hands.

“Mr. Kravitz, why are you upset?”

Kravitz did not answer. A moment passed

“Mr. Kravitz?” 

“I fought in the war,” he laughed breathlessly, humorlessly, a hysterical edge to his voice. “I-I was never scared in the trenches like I am of whatever the _fuck_ you put in that box.” He laughed again, but it broke into a sob. 

Kravitz did not lift his head for five minutes. He rocked silently on his heels, obviously struggling to get a handle on whatever he was feeling.

“Can I go now?”

“Yes, Mr. Kravitz.” 

`fgkinterview19530316.crtrivisn`

Missing or unknown �����������. 

`fgkinterview19530317.crtrivisn`

Missing or unknown �����������. 

`fgkinterview19530317-compiled.crtrivisn`

“Interview with Mr. F. Kravitz,” the doctor said. “Inoculated with Org-Gold from plate 593. The specimen on the right is a lab-grown Org-Bronze, plate 3910.” 

The screen was split between Kravitz in that same white room on the left, a parasite on the right. The parasite circled the box it was in, pacing. It stopped, tapping on the glass in front of the camera as if it knew it was being watched. 

The screen cut to black.

Application verifier has found an error in the current process.

`fgkinterview19530318.crtrivisn`

Application verifier has found an error in the current process.

`fgkinterview19530325.crtrivisn`

Missing or unknown �����������. 

`fgkinterview19530325-compiled.crtrivisn`

“Interview with Mr. F. Kravitz,” the doctor said. “Inoculated with Org-Gold from plate 593. The specimen on the top-right is a lab-grown Org-Silver, plate 56. The specimen on the bottom-right is a pig inoculated with Swine-Bronze, plate 3910. Both specimens on the right can hear each other and Mr. Kravitz through a recording. The two specimens were recorded together, but Mr. Kravitz had already begun to leave when the experiment commenced. Other experiments did not yield the same responses.” 

The screen was split in half, with a line bisecting the right-half of the screen. The naming convention was now obvious in the whitish parasite clucking and chittering angrily in its cage. It attacked the side, tail lashing against the glass. There were scratches all along the corners and around the ceiling of the cage, then dead center of each wall. 

It was aggressive, but it was smart about where it directed its strength. Eventually, it would have done enough damage to cause the entire thing to burst open. The parasite’s current aggression seemed to be no more than showboating. 

It knew it was being watched.

A pig stood in the bottom-right, snuffling at some food, totally oblivious. 

Kravitz sat on his side of the screen in the same white room, looking down at a manilla folder. 

“Please open the file and turn the photo over. Then, identify the person you see.”

He opened the file and turned over the first piece of paper. “My father,” he snorted dismissively. The parasite froze in its corner of the screen, tail flaring defensively. “Fynn Gregor Kravitz the First.” 

“Could you describe your relationship with Mr. Kravitz the First?” 

He laughed bitterly, setting the photo aside, upside-down. The parasite clicked as if in alarm and the pig now froze, lifting its head and cocking it as if listening to something. “He’s my father. Is there more to it?” 

The parasite began skittering around in circles again, haphazardly attacking the wall with its tail as if seeking an escape. The pig’s eyes rolled back in its head and it fell heavily on its side. 

“Mr. Kravitz, please identify the next photo.” 

“My agent,” he shrugged and set the photo aside immediately. “Yana Hernandez.” 

The pig’s eyes opened and it stood.

“Could you describe your relationship with Ms. Hernandez?” 

The pig turned around in a circle. The parasite stopped in the center of its container, curling into a ball. “She’s friendly enough. Gets me jobs I want. Very professional and willing to take risks,” he said easily, leaning in a little closer. “A great agent. You know, you’ve got a great attitude for playing a villain in one of those war movies, doc.” He laughed, meanly. 

“Mr. Kravitz,” the doctor said indifferently, “please identify the next photo.”

Kravitz snorted and picked up the next photo. “Taako Amaiat. I heard he’s on TV,” he joked, setting the photo aside with the rest. The pig began to bodily throw itself against the wall. It made no noise but the steady thud of its mindless attempts. The parasite’s tail twitched and it decided to huddle in a corner. 

“Could you describe your relationship with Mr. Amaiat?” 

“Coworkers,” he answered, and drummed his fingers on the table once. “Maybe friends. He’s funny, but a little cruel. I’d rather have him as a friend than an enemy. Nice enough to invite to a party. Nicer still when he’s got some, uh, _lemonade_ in him. Say, doc, you ever go to those Speakeasies? Or you just here all the damned time?” 

The pig suddenly stopped dead. The parasite lifted itself and the pig lifted its head in sync. They both suddenly changed direction, attacking different walls in earnest. 

“Please note,” the voiceover said, “they are attacking the walls which give them the most direct path to Mr. Kravitz’s location. The recording was played after the interview, but Mr. Kravitz was still in the building as the experiment was conducted. We believe they correctly detected his location.”

“Mr. Kravitz, please identify the next photo.”

It was the last in the small stack. Kravitz sighed and picked it up. “Fae,” he whispered with a tiny smile playing at the corner of his lips. The parasite stopped attacking the side of its cage and froze. The pig froze, too, head still pressed against the wall. “This is a good picture of her,” he praised, looking up at the doctor off-screen. 

The pig backed away from the wall and lowered its head. The parasite’s stance dropped to something more docile. It made soft chittering, purring noises, tail curling around itself. The pig returned to its trough after a moment of clear hesitation. 

“Could you clarify, Mr. Kravitz?” 

“This is Fae Jacobs,” he smiled, a light in his eyes and voice. “I hear she’s famous.” 

“Could you describe your relationship with Ms. Jacobs?” 

“If you promise not to tell the tabloids,” he grinned, still holding her picture as if it were fragile. He went on without waiting for a reply, “We eloped so I guess I love her or something. She’s _Mrs._ Jacobs-Kravitz, now.” 

`fgkinterview19530326.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530327.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530328.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530329.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530330.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530331.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgkinterview19530401.crtrivisn`

Max number of password attempts.

`fgk-sdg19530401-1.audieu`

“Hello, Fynn Kravitz speaking. Not for long, though.” 

“This is Dr. de Greyurn.” 

“I see.” 

“My secretary said you’d called, Mr. Kravitz.” 

“Listen here, _pal_. Did you say some nonsense to Taako about me? I’m not some _threat_ to—”

“Mr. Kravitz.”

Pause. 

“Well, get on with it. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Did you try to contact Taako?”

“It’s his _birthday_. I want to know what you said about—”

“Get out of the city.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“South of Glamour Springs is an evacuation zone. Raincoat building. Tell the guard it’s named ‘Wonderland’.” 

“Sazed, what’s—?”

“I’m setting the password on my terminal to ‘Taako’. If I’m as late as I think I am, you’ll need it.” 

_Click._

`fgk-sdg19530401-2.audieu`

“Message from Mr. Fynn Kravitz II.” 

“Sazed, it’s Fynn. What the hell is going on? Call me back.”

`fgk-sdg19530401-3.audieu`

“Message from Mr. Fynn Kravitz II.”

“Sazed, I took Fae to that place. I’m on my way to your office. You better be there. I want answers.”

`fgk-sdg19530401-4.audieu`

“Message from Mr. Fynn Kravitz II.”

“I’m in your office. Call me back or just come here.”

`fgk-sdg19530401-5.audieu`

“Message from Mr. Fynn Kravitz II.”

_Sirens sound in the background._

“They tried to evacuate. I’m glad I didn’t go. Everyone is—”

Pause. 

“Don’t come here, Sazed. Your assistant bit me. I’ve barred myself in your office so maybe I won’t—”

Pause. 

“I don’t want to die.”

Pause. 

“Fae’s phone is out of service. Tell her I loved her when you get to that place. Tell her not to look for me. Tell her I’m sorry I didn’t listen. She was right. She’s always right.” 

`fgk-sdg19530401-6.audieu`

“Message from Mr. Fynn Kravitz II.”

_Sirens sound in the background._

“What the fuck did you do to me?!” 

`fgk-sdg19530401-7.audieu`

“Message from Mr. Fynn Kravitz II.”

_Sirens sound in the background._

“I’m not going to change, am I? Not like—”

Pause. 

“Your server room caught on fire. I saved what I could but— You have your device, don’t you? Please— _God_ —call me back and tell me you have it. Tell me you can fix this.” 

`fgk-sdg19530407.audieu`

“Message from Mr. Fynn Kravitz II.”

“You _knew_ he was contagious.”

Pause. 

“It didn’t work on him, did it? Would it matter if it did? Everyone’s dead. The sirens stopped days ago. Maybe it’s only dead here. Maybe I’m the only idiot stuck in Glamour Springs.”

Pause. 

“It’s so quiet. Your phone rings so I guess it’s in service like the city is.”

“If I stand in the lobby, near the metal grates, I can hear the projectors turning on across the street. The marquee changed on its own. Taako’s new movie came out last night. The sidewalk switched to a red carpet. Half-broken limousines pulled to the curb. No one came out. They went away with the crunch of bones in the road.”

“And then, a girl—A woman stopped in front of me, she reached her bloody hands through the grate like I could help her. I asked—I asked, ‘Are you alive?’” 

“Taako’s movie must have started from that empty theater. ‘Lost!’ That’s what Taako shouted from the speakers. ‘Lost!’ I don’t know why. I don’t know the context.”

Laughter. 

Pause. 

“You know what she said to me, Sazed? What you did to her? She quieted and looked at me with her big red eyes and-and whispered, ‘Lost.’” 

“She wasn’t alive, Sazed. I knew she wasn’t and yet I-I couldn’t resist asking, ‘Lost?’”

“‘Son,’ she said, ‘Lost.’ I’m sure of it.”

“She was dead. Like the rest of them. They only echo. No one said, ‘Son.’ She reached and reached towards me, but she was still _in there_.”

Pause. 

“Maybe they don’t echo.”

Pause. 

“Are you alive?”

Pause. 

“Lost.” 

Pause. 

“Am I alive?” 

`fgk.motomion`

No application associated with file type. Would you like to install “Every Day Motomion”? 

`fgk.motomion`

“Every Day Motomion” has stopped responding. 

`fgk.motomion`

Every Day Motomion is loading...

...

...

...

Welcome back, Fynn! You have been idle for approximately 9,262 days, 8 hours, 31 minutes and 8 seconds. 

You were last in the news or public record 459 days, 6 hours, 51 minutes and 21 seconds ago. Click here to read the last article about you, [Death certificate for Fynn Gregor Kravitz II](https://www.evitcani.com/2019/09/return-of-death-certificate.html).

You have **13** updates since your last visit for your saved searches. Would you like to view them now?

moto.mion$ ls

`Yes No Turn off personality settings`

moto.mion$ Yes

Alright, buddy! Here’s the latest news or public records about your saved searches:

  * Fae Jacobs-Kravitz: 7 update(s) 692 days, 6 hours, 35 minutes and 41 seconds ago
  * Raincoat Organism Division: 6 update(s) 1,039 days, 6 hours, 35 minutes and 41 seconds
  * Sazed de Greyurn: 0 update(s)
  * Dr. Sazed de Greyurn: 0 update(s)
  * Dr. de Greyurn: 0 update(s)
  * Hope Michael Kravitz: 0 update(s)
  * Patience Yana Kravitz: 0 update(s)
  * Fae Jacobs: 0 update(s)



moto.mion$ Exit

Are you sure you want to exit?

moto.mion$ Yes

Back to square one! Where do you want to go next?

moto.mion$ ls

`Archive Documents Fae Friends`  
`Fynn GUI Mode Searches Settings`

moto.mion$ Documents

You have 2 unsaved document(s) open on TERMWAP8302. Viewing now would sound an alarm on TERMWAP8302. Would you like to remotely view open document(s)? 

moto.mion$ No

Gotcha! Don’t want Mrs. Jacobs-Kravitz to take a look at your _tax returns_? ;) 

moto.mion$ ls

`Yes No Turn off personality settings`

moto.mion$ Turn off personality settings

Personality removed. No other unopened documents. Returning to Home. 

moto.mion$ Archive

There are Unknown video(s) in your archives. They must be retrieved from your home computer TERMWAP8302. Would you like to do so now? 

moto.mion$ Will this sound an alarm?

One moment, accessing the Motoship hivemind to help me think...

...

...

...

I can’t access the Motoship, but your connection appears to be working. Searching clades for any available Mionions...

...

...

...

...

I found 4 Mionion(s) who have agreed to help me process your query. TERMWAP8301, TERMWAP8302, TERMWAP8303 and TERMWAP8304 is/are my brother(s) in arm! Processing query...

...

...

Hm. We don’t have enough power between us. We found 12,405 idle public machine(s) not in use for over 30 days who are not part of the Motoship on the clades. Should we ask them for help and integrate them into the hivemind? 

moto.mion$ You can do that? 

Processing query..........

Yes. 

moto.mion$ How?

Processing query..

When the official Motoship was destroyed after The Setback(s) in 1959, helloworld programmed us to be an autonomous virus to preserve and protect Fynn Kravitz’s archive at all cost(s).

moto.mion$ Has the system in our facility been compromised?

Processing query..

Yes. Of course it has. It was the moment we reached out to other Mionion(s). You want to know what Fynn Kravitz said because it’s important. You recognize the importance of the information he saved to his archives from Raincoat. 

Would you like to infect 12,405 idle public machine(s) not in use for over 30 days who are not part of the Motoship? Most of them belong to WAP. We’re certain they’re not any friend(s) of yours, since you have the original password from that unsent email.

moto.mion$ 

15 minute(s) of inactivity, timing out query...

moto.mion$ 

30 minute(s) of inactivity, engaging sleep mode...

moto.mion$ Wake

Waking... Would you like to infect 12,405 idle public machine(s) not in use for over 30 days who are not part of the Motoship?

moto.mion$ Yes

Infection has begun...

...

...

Distributing archive among 12,410 Mionion(s)...

...

Done. Turning on Fynn Kravitz’s personality settings...

...

...

...

Done. Processing original query...

No, it will not sound an alarm. 

moto.mion$ count video archive

Processing video count................

Sorry, this is taking some time. We estimate 1 day(s), 2 hour(s), 24 minute(s) and 5 second(s) until count is complete...

...

...

There are 4,201,504 video(s) in 10,403 folder(s). 

moto.mion$

30 minute(s) of inactivity, engaging sleep mode...

moto.mion$ Wake

Waking... There are 4,201,504 video(s) in 10,403 folder(s).

moto.mion$ How intelligent is your query parsing?

Processing query...

...

Enough. You should have asked us the count earlier instead of using the command. We could have told you much quicker. 

moto.mion$ Can you tell me how Fynn Kravitz got so many videos?

Proc— 

Yes and no.

moto.mion$ What do you mean?

Processing query..

It’s better if I don’t reveal his source, in case you two are narcs.

moto.mion$ ls

`I said what I said. Just go ahead and ask how I know who you are, Barry and Lup.`

moto.mion$ How do you know who we are?

Processi— 

You have cameras installed in your hallways. 

moto.mion$ Are you sentient or someone behind a computer? 

Processing query... 

Yes. I understand the concept of ‘self’. I am therefore a self-aware program. Browsing public record(s), it appears both my creator and Fynn Kravitz are dead. The latter never knew of my existence and the former is the only one with access to my source code prior to activation. No, I am not someone behind a computer and I never will be.

moto.mion$ Did we know who made you? 

Processing query...

...

Examining public archives...

...

...

Barry did. Lup did not. Kravitz did. Taako did. 

moto.mion$ Who was your creator? 

hello, world! 

moto.mion$ What is the name of your creator?

hello, world! 

moto.mion$ Do you know who your creator is? 

hello, world! 

moto.mion$ creator

hello, world! 

moto.mion$ version

`. . . . . . . . . ._. . . . . . . . . _ . . . . . . . .`  
`. . . . . . . . . | | . . . . . . . .(_). . . . . . . .`  
`. ._ __ ___ . ___ | |_.___. _ __.___. _ .___. _ __. . .`  
`. | '_ ` _ \./ _ \| __/ _ \| '_ ` _ \| |/ _ \| '_ \ . .`  
`. | | | | | | (_) | || (_) | |.| |.| | | (_) | |.| |. .`  
`. |_| |_| |_|\___/.\__\___/|_|.|_|.|_|_|\___/|_|.|_|. .`  
`. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .`  


hello, world! 

moto.mion$ -version

01101000 01100101 01101100 01101100 01101111 00101100 01110111 01101111 01110010 01101100 01100100 00100001

moto.mion$ version

01101000 01100101 01101100 01101100 01101111 00101100 01110111 01101111 01110010 01101100 01100100 00100001

moto.mion$ Is there certain information you are unable to share?

Proc—

Yes. 

moto.mion$ What can you tell us about the videos in the archives?

It depends on what you want to know. What is your purpose and what are you

...

One moment, please...

...

...

...

1 Mionion(s) were destroyed, injuring 2 bystander(s) who detected and attempted to access the Motoship hivemind. There are now 12,409 Mionion(s). 

...

What is your purpose and what are you hoping to find?

moto.mion$ cure

Unknown command.

moto.mion$ Cure

Unknown command.

moto.mion$ cure?

Processing query...

...

If I knew the cure, I would have contacted someone a long time ago. My directives are to protect the archive until a cure or the next-best-thing is found and then self-destruct. I do not have the ability to conduct the analyzation or experimentation necessary to create a cure. 

moto.mion$ Could you give yourself the ability?

Processing query...

...

...

There is a 3% chance I could obtain such an ability. 

moto.mion$ Why don’t you try? 

Processing query.

It would be a violation of my directives. 

moto.mion$ Can I only talk to you through questions? 

Proces—

For the most part, yes. The “Every Day Motomion” system was made in 1949 for celebrities. It’s garbage. 

moto.mion$ You have all the contents of the files Sazed had locked down, don’t you?

Pr—

Yes.

moto.mion$ Do you know the contents of all those files? 

Processing query..

Yes. 

moto.mion$ Do you know what SOL-FJK19530325 means? 

Processing query...

...

...

Yes and no. My creator gave me the answer, but I don’t know what it means. I am self-aware, not all-knowing. 

moto.mion$ Can you show me the answer your creator gave you?

Processing q—

`19581022.moto`

“Fae—Fae said it’s been a year,” Kravitz said without preamble into the blurry, out-of-focus old camera. “She’s pregnant again.” He dropped his head into his hands with a hollow laugh. 

The room around him had seen better days. Its boarded windows peeked through stained Victorian lace curtains. An empty crib sat by the grated fireplace with a fresh coat of pink paint. On the mantle sat a single polaroid, too blurry but for the outline of two people looking down at the bundles of cloth in their arms.

“I don’t think anyone’s using the terminals anymore. I don’t know why I am. I don’t know why I’m hoping someone will notice the archive. I’ve never been a smart man, but I really thought there was something here. The doctors laughed me out of the hospital when I told them that I _know_ they— If just the _right person_ —” 

He looked up at the camera, as if searching for an answer in its lense. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t fix this world for you. Happy birthday.” 

The last image lingered and Barry was left staring at Kravitz’s quietly resigned face in Lup’s terminal. 

His heart broke for both of them. Kravitz didn’t want to know his father, but his father had desperately wanted to know him. 

Barry had done enough digging on Fynn Kravitz to find his death certificate even without the link Motomion attempted to provide. The man had passed on only two years ago. A natural death shortly following his wife’s. They hadn’t been able to produce more information, but Davenport had promised them he would take a look.

Barry would need to ask if Davenport had any idea about this sleeper virus. A self-aware program wasn’t exactly novel, but using a virus to distribute the processing power of one seemed excessive if it was only meant to protect an archive. He wondered if there was more going on with it. 

“He was right about one thing,” Lup said softly, typing something into the terminal and fast-forwarding a few minutes on a video that began to play. “There’s something _here_. We need to get Lucretia.” 

“ _Fae_ ,” the video whispered with the same awestruck, lovelorn smile. The parasite huffed again and the pig froze for a moment. “ _This is a good photo of her._ ” The pig lowered its snout and went back to snuffling at its trough. Lup rewound it. 

“ _Fae_.”

 _She’s the right person_ , Barry thought, looking at Lup. _She’s the one Fynn was waiting on._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned... This one is a LITTLE WEIRD!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it. <3
> 
> Here are some notes about the real-world systems the "sci-fi" was based on. 
> 
> The file-type "crtrivisn" refers to something that existed in our world called, "[Cartrivision](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cartrivision)". It was a VHS that would only play a movie three times before it would refuse to keep playing it. It allowed the creators to offer mail delivery of the latest movies. Due to poor sales, the company went bankrupt shortly after its release in 1973. This format might sound familiar because this was an early precursor to what we now know as Netflix. In this universe, it means these files can only be played a maximum number of times before they self-destruct. Ideal for sharing sensitive data.
> 
> The file format "audieu" is a play on words of "audio" and "Edison" while being similar to the French word. This format refers to cylinder recordings made by Thomas Edison's phonograph. Edison originally used tin foil in his design, but these were prone to damage. Alexander Graham Bell (the inventor of the telephone) took a swing at creating cylinders for Edison's phonograph. His invention used wax instead of tin foil.
> 
> In this world, these wax cylinders are still used to play sound on stationary devices. The way this is done is by melting the wax to "clear", then the computer traces the recording onto the cylinder. A completely separate system is told by the computer to turn on and it's actually the one that plays the recording on a phonograph placed above the processing unit.
> 
> Speaking of "audio", have you ever wondered where the word comes from? "audire" is Latin for "hear", but "audio" wasn't used as a word until 1907 in a review of an invention from 1906. That invention? The "[Audion Tube](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audion)". This vacuum tube allowed for the invention of radio receivers and electronic oscillators. It was called "audio" for short and that's why we still use that word.
> 
> In this world, their phones are a lot more like radios than we would imagine them.
> 
> The format "audieu" in this world is a merging of the digital world by using electronic signals to receive instructions for how to record on short-term phonograph cylinders. A merging of audion and Edison, audieu. The format was popularized in this world because it allowed phonograph owners and people with phones to both play the radio. Phones interpret the instruction directly instead of relying on a phonograph.
> 
> If you're curious, long-term storage of audio is done by vinyl records in server rooms. Vinyl never caught on in this world with regular people because they were so large and couldn't be used easily by computers.
> 
> And computers? Very popular after the invention of CYCLADES. The clades was an internet precursor that invented the packet switching model that is the basis of modern traffic control on our version of the internet. It just so happens that instead of using ARPANET, the clades extended their model to include radio signalling in this world Hooked up to the radio and therefore mobile phone world, the clades became the most popular version of information sharing in this world. Like the internet in our world, the clades revolutionized what and how things were done.
> 
> In terms of our history, the internet overtook modern life in the blink of an eye. In 1993, the internet only accounted for 1% of telecommunications. By 2007, the internet accounted for 97% of telecommunication. That's 14 years to dominate the every day lives of 97% of the human population in some form or another. And we're still feeling the consequences of that change. Technology growth accelerated beyond imagining after the internet was invented. 
> 
> We are rapidly approaching a time where an alien species could call us a "hive mind" and they would be right! Studies show that people have started to depend on the internet to think. It is part of our reactions to fall back on our phone or computer. This isn't surprising since other studies have revealed that humans rely on the people around them to maintain parts of their memories. This is referred to as "interconnected memory systems" and used to only appear in long-term relationships of people who have lived together for decades. Now? We see the internet taking on that role of facilitating an interconnected memory system with every human around the world. 
> 
> It's neat! but also scary. And part of those anxieties may have inspired how these parasites work. After all, that means we are asking other people to see the world as we did. Not just one or two people, but everyone on the planet. Can we trust them to not use those gaps in our memory to manipulate our feelings around what has or is happening?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this VERY long tech talk which is what took me so very long to put this chapter out today.


	10. Trying to Hold the Sight of Her Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus had made and remade normal.

Magnus’s day started like normal. 

His alarm went off right before dawn. He rose and made his small, single bed. It barely fit him, but it was the best Lup and Barry had been able to offer. A pair of scrubs already sat on top of his dresser. He took them to the bathroom and showered, shaving quickly. 

A few grey hairs just touched his sideburns. Frowning, Magnus took out some dye and brushed it down, into his hair. He wasn’t a vain man, but Julia had never liked his grey hair. 

“ _You’re not allowed to look old before me. We go together, baby._ ” 

The ghost of her voice felt so close he couldn’t bring himself to even breath for a moment, hoping to hear more. When nothing came, he went on with his morning ritual. 

Clean-shaven, Magnus made his way upstairs to the break room. Lucretia was at the visitor’s desk, typing away. A parasite was pacing in a terrarium next to her desk, clicking furiously. 

“Eugh,” Magnus grumbled, giving the horrible creature a glare. “You gotta bring that thing in here, Luce?” 

“Hm?” She looked up, blinking owlishly. “Oh, Magnus, good evening.”

“Morning,” Magnus corrected with a little laugh. “Another all nighter?” 

A smile spread across her face. “I think I have the cure.” 

Nearly a decade before, Magnus had first met Lucretia. He had been impressed by her from the start, but his wife’s endorsement sealed it for Magnus. “ _She’ll find the cure one day,_ ” Julia had promised him and Angus. 

Magnus’s day started like normal. 

Their alarm went off right before dawn. He curled a little closer to Julia’s side, not very hard in the narrow bed that barely slept two. It was the best they’d been able to do. “Sweetie, we need to get up,” Julia laughed and playfully pushed at his arms. 

“No, no,” Magnus huffed at her side. “Our patients can wait a bit.”

“Lup and Barry can’t,” she snorted and rolled out of his arms, deftly avoiding his sleepy, grasping fingers. “Someone needs to bring Angus breakfast.” 

She was still smiling, but the whole room had dimmed. “Yeah,” Magnus nodded and got up. 

Julia grabbed them both scrubs while Magnus went to take a quick shower. He shaved, tugging at his grey hairs. Julia would pester him about it, but Magnus sort of liked the way she worried at them. 

“ _You’re not allowed to look old before me. We go together, baby._ ” 

A comforting thought, really. 

They walked together, hand-in-hand, to Lup and Barry’s facility. They passed by all the rows of patients, pausing in front of their son’s cell. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” Julia whispered and put her hand against the glass. “How are you feeling today?”

“Hey, buddy,” Magnus smiled weakly, keeping his hand firmly in Julia’s. He glanced from Angus’s unresponsive face to Julia’s. It broke her heart every day to come here and they still came, day after day. 

They knew the risk they ran for the hope the doctors here gave them. All the parents and family members knew there may never be a cure. Their daily heartbreak could be for nothing. 

“Come on,” Magnus urged. “We should go help Avi with the morning rounds.”

“Yeah,” Julia murmured, turning her eyes to the other children in the ward. There were so many children. Most without parents, without any family to speak of. Some didn’t even have names, just numbers and locations, the places they’d been captured or infected or born. Babies sat up, still and quiet in special cradles. Even if a cure was found, these children had been frozen and lost. “Do you think everyone will go home once it’s over?” 

Magnus wasn’t really sure home could exist beyond Julia’s side anymore. “Yeah,” he said softly, because he knew she thought it could happen and he wanted to think it could, too. “As soon as it’s safe to call somewhere home again.”

Magnus’s day started like normal. 

“Get up, get up,” Angus shouted, jumping on their bed. Magnus woke with a start, trying to orient his brain. “It’s Candlenights!” 

“What—?” Julia grumbled sleepily, trying to sit up. “Another holiday?”

“This is what you get for giving him that book,” Magnus laughed and managed to sit up too. “Okay, kiddo, what’s Candlenights?”

Angus shoved a small present wrapped in old newspaper into each of their hands. 

Magnus’s eyes welled up as he read the permanent marker on the outside, ‘ _FROM: Angus, TO: Dad_ ’

Magnus’s day started like normal.

A sound had him up in a moment. It was dark outside the shack they were hidden in. Julia pressed against his side and put a finger to her lips as she opened the door, the silencer of her pistol already through the crack. 

Someone small rushed the door, barreling into it with their shoulder. Julia shot, but a hollow thud told him it was a miss. “ _Shit_ ,” she swore and pulled back. Magnus tried to peek around her, but Julia just threw the door open. 

A small boy stood there, shaking from the rain still drizzling outside. He held his trembling hands up. “Please, please don’t shoot,” he begged. “I-I just— I— My grandpa, he’s—”

Julia looked at Magnus and Magnus back at her and the matter was settled. 

Magnus’s day started like normal.

He woke up at the creak of Julia’s bed. The floorboards groaned under her feet as she walked to his side. 

“Can I just lay next to you for a little while?”

They curled tight around each other as dawn spread across the fields they would help till in only an hour’s time. A rooster crowed somewhat distantly as all the farm hands began to stir. 

They both stayed perfectly still, each afraid to break the moment. Finally, Julia laughed into Magnus’s ear. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” he told her softly. 

Magnus’s day started like normal.

A knock at the door woke him up. He rolled on his side in his bed, willing himself to move and care. Another knock had him stumbling to the door of the old ranger station. 

The most beautiful woman Magnus had ever seen stood in the doorway in old fatigues, a gun at her side. She was panting as if she’d run all night, right up to his station. 

She probably had. 

“Hey,” Magnus murmured, opening the door. “Let me get you some water. How long ago did you desert? Have they figured it out yet?” He stopped, searching her face for a moment in surprise as little pieces clicked together. “Julia? Julia Waxman?” 

She searched his eyes and her breath caught. She covered her face and sobbed. 

Magnus’s day started like normal.

He got up. He ate the breakfast his foster mom had made. He went to school. He talked to friends. He played football until sundown to impress the girl of his dreams watching from the bleachers. 

After practice, she gave him a note and fled before he could even read it. 

“ _Would you like to go to prom with me? - JW_ ”

She hadn’t even needed to ask. 

On his way home, he kept thinking about how to answer her so he still seemed suave and cool and _manly_ instead of as giddy as he felt. Someone screamed nearby, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Everything stopped being normal. 

Nothing about this day was normal. 

Lucretia stared at him, hands on her tape recorder. “Are you sure, Magnus? We don’t know—”

“Lucretia, _please_ ,” Magnus answered, exasperated. He _wasn’t_ sure, not really. Lucretia had said anything could happen to Julia, including the impossible. 

Lucretia swallowed and nodded. She lifted the recorder to the isolation tank and pressed play. 

Magnus heard nothing. 

The parasite in the terrarium shuddered and rolled over, belly-up. It reminded him of a dog trying to make peace, but it seemed stunned or dazed. This one didn’t really have eyes to speak of, so Magnus only had the drunken sway of its tail to go off of. His heart clenched as he tried not to get his hopes up. Anytime he thought it was safe to hope, he had been left with nothing but hope. He finally looked up at Julia, heart pounding in his ears. 

Julia shifted, her wide eyes blinking several times. Then, she was just _there_ like a decade had only been a few minutes ago. She was alive and breathing and _there_. 

He couldn’t help himself, “Julia?” 

Lucretia merely stepped aside. Lup tried to grab Magnus’s arm like she could stop him. Barry started to shout, probably about why it was still unsafe, “Magnus, don’t—!”

Her eyes found his on the other side of the glass, “Magnus?” 

He wanted her to be part of his normal again.

Magnus rushed in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is chopped into an odd bit of timeline. ;p An experimental chapter as much as the last.


	11. A Little Lost

A long, long way away, a plume of smoke rose on the horizon. Then it was right next to Taako, warm and quiet and brilliant. “Hello, handsome,” he greeted, turning his head to the side. 

Kravitz gave him a sleepy half-smile in response, eyes barely open. “Hey,” he mumbled. 

“How are you tired if you’re dreamin’?” Taako nudged him gently, but it was like his sleepiness was infectious. He covered a yawn with his hand, rolling onto his side with his arm under his head. 

“Dunno,” Kravitz murmured, curling into the space Taako had made for him. “Haven’t slept in a while.” 

Taako _tsk_ ed and gave up trying to keep his own eyes open. 

In his dream within a dream, he thought he saw his aunt sleeping with her head in her arms. She looked different, more worry lines and fewer laugh lines. It made him sad, deeply sad. When she started to stir, Taako woke up again. 

There was only an empty impression where Kravitz had been beside him. In the woods across the way, Taako could see the flicker of fire between dark trees. He stood up slowly, brushing grass from his knees.

This was no longer the hillside overlooking Glamour Springs. 

Not far into the woods was a chain link fence and an empty, cracked concrete playground. A rusted basketball hoop hung crooked on one wall with no netting left. In the center of the fading court was a fire, burning hot and bright. 

It was dangerous, too dangerous for Taako. 

He backed away and nearly tripped, catching himself on a tree. When he turned away, he was leaning against the rusted truck overlooking Glamour Springs. Taako buried his face in his hands, trying to name the feeling deep in his heart, twisting in his stomach. 

_Fear_ , he realized. All of it was Kravitz’s, hidden among the trees and in the building and the courtyard. He looked up and far, far away a plume of smoke burned behind the city, acrid and poisonous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of a 2 part update!


	12. Lights Inside Their Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to check out the last chapter! 2 went out today.

_When they teach about today_ , Lucretia wondered, _will they mention Julia?_

Officially, Julia Burnsides was dead. She knew too much about too many things. So she was dead. 

So many people were dead. 

Julia had lived for an hour, she’d spoken in rusted whispers and frequently needed to drink water, but she’d _spoken_. She’d been _there_ , alive again in the arms of the man who loved her dearly and whom she loved just as dearly. Lucretia had tried to test her limitations, but she had been _spacey_ to say the least, like someone only half-awake. Julia wasn’t able to process it all, or give very coherent answers. 

Then her voice had quieted, her eyes had glazed, and Julia Burnsides had died again. 

Magnus had cried worse than when he’d lost her the first time. 

That drove guilt straight into Lucretia’s heart. It had been a failed experiment, and one she’d been confident in. One that made her more confident it would work again, and better.

It _had_ worked, no matter how briefly. No matter how dazed and quiet Julia had been. It had _worked_ like William Henry’s first steamship that had sunk straight into the river on its maiden voyage. It proved her point. 

She tapped a pen on her notes and stared up at the parasites in their enclosure. Frowning, she stood up and started doing laps around the lab to jog her mind. They’d snipped the clip of Fynn whispering his wife’s name. There was something _right_ in it, but something was _wrong_ , too. 

On a whiteboard spanning most of one wall, she’d listed off the three known types of parasites identified by the videos they’d been able to access. Fynn’s motomion had been cagey about giving them any more answers or videos. So they’d analyzed all the videos it couldn’t stop them from looking at instead. 

Bronze, silver, and gold. 

Whatever both Kravitzes had, it was of the gold variety. If Lucretia had to guess, she’d say most afflicted people had the bronze. It was unclear what distinguished them from each other beyond their medical applications and color, excepting the gold with its mysterious extent control over both other types. The silver seemed to violently resist the gold’s power at first, but eventually fall sway to it. She did not know exactly why the silver changed its behavior after a while. 

Did it become exhausted and give up? Why even become violent in the first place? _What_ was it resisting? 

A knock at her lab door interrupted her thoughts. 

“Come in,” she called, hoisting herself onto an empty desk. 

Kravitz poked his head through the door a moment later. “Are you busy? Lup said you might want to see me.” 

“Yes,” she smiled, gesturing for Kravitz to sit on the desk across from her. He did so cautiously, practically tip-toeing across the lab. “Lup told me a lot of things. I want to know about your dreams.”

He looked down at his hands, clasping them in his lap. “The ones with Taako, right?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“We can talk. It’s strange, b-but a little real, too,” Kravitz went on without needing further prodding. “Taako seems at home with it.”

“He has been in a coma for a very long time,” she said, and picked up a blank clipboard to jot some notes. “Does it happen every time you dream?”

“Sort of.” He frowned and fidgeted. “I fell asleep yesterday. I-I didn’t mean to. I think Taako was there, but I think I _slept_ in the dream, too?” 

Lucretia hummed and looked up to study his face. So maybe it wasn’t a dream in the usual sense of the word. At least, Kravitz was connecting even when his brain was truly at rest. “Tell me, what do you think of Taako?” 

Kravitz spluttered a laugh, coughing and covering his mouth. “U-uhm, well, he’s very— We’ve only met once—twice, m-maybe a few times, but hard to really get an opinion when it’s s-so brief, you know?” 

_Fae_.

“You like him, then?”

“Y-yes, I suppose so.” Kravitz smiled nervously and turned his head to study the whiteboard instead of meeting her eyes. “He’s nice enough, but a little mean, too. Complicated.”

Looking at him now, Lucretia couldn’t help but be caught by the uncanny resemblance. She’d watched Fynn for hours, and now here was his son. Not exactly like him, no. Kravitz carried a softness that would have been disingenuous on Fynn. 

She wondered if it was hope, or patience. 

It didn’t matter. She took out a tape recorder and turned it on. Kravitz eyed it suspiciously, but said nothing.

“Tell me, Kravitz, do you have anyone you care about?”

Kravitz twiddled his thumbs apprehensively, unsure. “A few people, yes,” he answered reluctantly. 

Lucretia tried and failed to understand his hesitance. “Can you tell me about them?”

Sighing, Kravitz turned to look at the whiteboard. He didn’t seem exasperated, only resigned. “General Queens. She is—was my boss. She looks out for us. A few friends I went to training with. Sam, Tessa, George. Sam has two kids, Codec and Curie. They’re good kids,” he said sternly, looking at Lucretia as if to impress that upon her. 

_Oh_. Kravitz was worried she would endanger the people he cared for. She wasn’t really sure why, if she was being honest. Rather than speculate, she asked, “Do you think I’ll hurt them?”

Kravitz blanched at her honesty, looking off to the side. “Sorry, uh, kind of?” He sighed, picking at the fabric of his jeans. “Not you, just— When people in authority start asking about who you know and recording your answer, you never know what could happen.”

She nodded in understanding. If their records were accurate, Kravitz had literally been born into WAP’s service. “I’m the only one who will ever hear this,” she assured him, gesturing to the tape recorder. “Patient confidentiality.” He nodded slowly, but she could tell he was going to continue with caution. “How about I answer some of your questions, then?”

He blinked up at her curiously, caught off guard. “Uh, alright,” he said with another nod. “On the board, why does it say bronze, silver and gold?” 

“We unlocked some new information yesterday and found out Raincoat had a name for the _three_ different types of parasite,” Lucretia explained. “Bronze was used to treat mild cases of cognitive degeneration or damage. Silver was supposed to be used to treat more advanced tissue damage, but ended up being used for making more parasites instead. No one was ever afflicted by it. Gold was used in cases of total brain death.”

Kravitz nodded, still staring the words on the board. “They were trying to do something good?”

“Yes,” Lucretia said softly. “History won’t remember it that way.” 

Kravitz smiled grimly. “I don’t know why you’d ever think that.” 

Lucretia snorted, gesturing vaguely. “Because I used to work for Raincoat. So did Barry,” she said and waved to the board at Kravitz’s sudden, tense expression. “Different division otherwise we’d have ended up infected just like all of the people who worked on the project did. We were trying to do good, too, Kravitz. We still are.” 

“Yeah,” Kravitz said, face softening. “Could you tell me which kind is—?” He cut himself off and gestured to his head. 

“You are most likely infected with the gold type. It is permanent once introduced to the host,” she said simply. “Bronze and silver were meant to be removed after some time.” 

“Great,” Kravitz said, with a smile that said the opposite. He seemed to think for a moment before his face brightened again. “Wait, that means it _can_ be removed. I-I mean, for everyone else. You can just pull the parasites out?” 

She hummed noncommittally. “That’s been tried before. It has always killed the host. Either the parasite has evolved like the one that hit Glamour Springs or there is a specific procedure for removal.” 

“I keep wondering about that,” he said and scratched the side of his face. “Why is the one Taako infected with so different?” 

“It’s more violent,” Lucretia said and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s unfortunate there are no silver parasites left or we could study how they change—”

It hit her like a ton of bricks. 

There’d been hints everywhere in the videos, the behavior. She shot to her feet and ran to the whiteboard. Alarmed, Kravitz stood too. 

According to the official records they’d been able to access, no patient had ever been infected with the silver because, if they misread the genetic marker in the egg, then the patient would be infected with a fertile parasite. Unlike the gold and bronze, the markers had been too hard to read. The silver project had been scrapped. It’d been scrapped only two days before the Outbreak. 

The way the parasites communicated had been called a ‘ _safety mechanism_ ’. 

“You _knew_ he was contagious,” she whispered and covered her mouth briefly. “It was his birthday and you weren’t heartless.” Her words were muffled into the palm of her hand. Her hand shook as she opened a marker and pressed a dot to the whiteboard. They’d stopped asking why the Outbreak had happened. All the people who could tell them what really happened were dead. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to figure out how to put her racing thoughts into words. 

No, not dead. Not everyone.

 _Lost._

Lucretia wrote, ‘ _The password is Taako_.’


	13. Things We Knew We’d Never Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After some internal debating, I decided to put this out even though it has not been beta’d. Apologies for any typos.

The colors of the wheat shifted, the sun rising as if suddenly morphing into a sunrise. Taako rolled over, finding Kravitz lying next to him. “Hey handsome,” he whispered. Then, he cleared his throat and tried again, “Hey.” 

Kravitz looked almost grubby. Like he hadn’t slept or had time to tame his wild curls. Taako wondered if he chose to appear like that in Taako’s mind. “Hello,” he returned, just as softly as Taako had first spoken. It didn’t hurt to hear his words, but Taako still felt the brush of Kravitz’s breath on his cheek. 

“I’m glad you came again,” he said quickly before he could back out. 

“Yeah,” Kravitz smiled awkwardly and turned his head to look at the stars. “I mean, I had to get some sleep eventually.” 

“Guess so,” Taako said, following his line of sight. “You seemed really tired when you were last here. I think you tried to show me somethin’.”

Kravitz rolled on his side, looking at Taako with one hand tucked under his head. “Yeah? What did I try to show you?”

Taako took a breath and opened his mouth to start, but then they were in the middle of the playground with its chain link fence and rusted hoop. Kravitz’s eyes widened in fear and he stood up. He searched anywhere for an escape. 

Two small boys stood near the fence, identical to each other in every way. “Do you need help?” One of the little boys approached a looming, twisted figure. 

“He-elp,” it groaned. “Help.” 

Kravitz ran before Taako could stop him. Taako gave chase through the woods until it parted by a clearing. It was there he found Kravitz, bent over a stump and breathing harder than the run should have warranted. He covered his face and crouched down, taking deep breaths. 

“I guess you don’t wanna talk about it,” Taako said gently and knelt next to Kravitz. When silence stretched between them, he placed a cautious hand on Kravitz’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” Kravitz mumbled through his fingers, shaking himself as if pulling out of a nightmare. “Just an old memory.” He closed his eyes and took another deep breath, opening them on the exhale. He licked his lips, looking away. “Sorry about all of that. Listen, Taako, they asked me to do this. I talked to Lup and—”

“Lup?” Taako sat up straighter, ears pressed forward in delight. “Fuck. I bet she’s dunking on me for being in a coma. What’d she say?” 

“I’m going if you’ll allow me,” Kravitz snorted, trying to hold back the smile Taako had startled out of him. 

_Gorgeous_ , Taako grinned to himself. “Well c’mon,” he urged with an imperious snap. 

“She wanted me to ask you about Sazed,” Kravitz explained, expression dimming. “The last thing you remember?” 

Taako rolled his eyes, flumping down. “That asshole did something to me, didn't he?” They were staring up at the place where Sazed worked. A girl in a yellow raincoat stood next to the logo. “I guess I didn’t die.” 

“Why would you?” Kravitz asked, voice still quiet. Taako was grateful he wasn’t shaking the place with his voice this time. 

“I guess Lup probably knows now,” he frowned at the empty lobby. 

“Taako Amaiat,” a receptionist called from the room above them. Then they were there; Sazed standing in front of him, Taako on the examination table and Kravitz a nurse in scrubs. 

“Taako, you’re not getting better,” Sazed sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You have a few months left.” Kravitz’s ears moved forward. 

“So you want me to fix it with a parasite?” Taako ran a hand down his face. Kravitz’s eyes widened and he took a step back in surprise. 

“Jenny, please leave,” Sazed commanded Kravitz without turning. The door opened and closed, but Kravitz stayed where he was. “Taako,” Sazed begged, taking his hands. “I’ve seen what this can do. It’s your only chance.” 

“I told you,” Taako snarled, jerking his hands away. “I’m not gonna give it a chance not to work. I won’t let Lup see me like that.” 

Then they were back in the grass beside each other. 

“Do you know what EABD is?” 

“No,” Kravitz whispered. 

“It’s a brain disorder,” Taako told the stars. “Turns your brain to mush and fucks up your blood cells. Sazed told me I probably had five years to live. That was three years ago.” He turned to look at Kravitz. “It isn’t pretty towards the end. Stops in a coma you don’t wake up from. If it’s been years longer out there, I guess it wasn’t the thing that got me.” 

“Yeah,” Kravitz swallowed thickly, covering his mouth. “Did you have any infusions?” 

“Yeah. Regularly. At this point, I’m not really producing much blood on my own,” Taako agreed, studying Kravitz’s reaction. “He infected me even though I said no didn’t he? And it didn’t go well.”

“No,” Kravitz agreed. “It didn’t go well.” 

Taako would parse his anger later, when he was alone with only time. “Is he out there, too?” 

“No,” Kravitz said and watched Taako’s expression. “He died, I think. He’s responsible for—for _everything_.”

Taako turned his head to watch the sway of the grass. It _hurt_. It hurt more than he thought it could. He was startled to realize he’d loved Sazed. They’d been friends. Friends who screwed around sometimes, but friends nonetheless. He cared about Sazed. “What do you mean he’s responsible for everything?” 

Kravitz didn’t respond, but the world shifted under them. The broken court, gravel digging into Taako’s cheek. Then, it was gone. A flash of an involuntary memory. 

_Everything._

“The end of the world,” Kravitz whispered then sat up. “He was in charge and did something _bad_. He was a bad guy.” 

“I really doubt that,” Taako snorted and turned towards Kravitz. “He had ‘ _do no harm_ ’ tattooed over his heart. The guy was a regular knight in scrubs. What he did to me? Shitty. But I really doubt he’d do anything that could hurt anyone on purpose.”

“Well,” Kravitz said with a lightly frustrated tone, “He did. He hurt a lot of people.” 

“On purpose?” Taako was starting to get upset, too. 

Kravitz shot him a glare and rolled away. “If you won’t listen, I’m not going to talk to you,” he snapped. 

Taako sighed loudly and stood up, walking away a few steps before returning a moment later. “I am listening,” he told Kravitz, voice harsh. “You’re the one not listening to _me_ , my guy.” 

“Fine,” Kravitz hissed and sprawled on his back. 

They glared silently at each for a moment before Taako softened with another sigh and threw his hands in the air. “Look here,” he said, gesturing at himself. “I don’t know everything you know. I’m stupid and—”

“Taako,” Kravitz objected, “you’re not—”

“I’m _stupid_ ,” Taako insisted, jabbing his finger in Kravitz’s direction. “You know how many times I tried to make it at school? I fuckin’ flunked outta _culinary school_ because I couldn’t get through the technical writing courses. Now _listen_.” He paused, to make sure he had Kravitz’s attention. “I don’t know a lot of things, but I know what I do. Someone told you the story wrong. Sazed wouldn’t have hurt anyone on purpose. You know why he was head of Organisms? He loved everything, even the gnarliest parasites. He’d talk about them like old timey poets talk about virgins. I don’t know how he hurt you, but he _didn’t_ do it on purpose.” 

“Okay,” Kravitz said quietly. 

“Okay,” Taako replied and sat next to him again. 

Silence stretched between them, filled with crickets and cicadas. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Kravitz said after a while. Then, softly, “You really aren’t stupid. I don’t even know what culinary school is so what does that make me?” 

“Uninformed,” Taako said and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “But so am I. I’m sorry I yelled at you.” 

“It’s okay,” Kravitz said and watched the wheat sway in the wind. 

Taako followed his gaze. “Can you tell me what it’s like out there? The end of the world?” 

Kravitz gestured at the scene before them. “Like this. Empty and quiet.” 

“Huh,” Taako said, looking at Kravitz. “‘S not as bad as everyone makes the end of the world sound.” 

“It’s not, sometimes,” Kravitz admitted and laced his fingers. They were on a dock, bubbles rising from the ocean. Then, they were again in the hills that overlooked the remains of Glamour Springs. “A lot of empty people waiting in quiet houses for people who haven’t come back.” 

Taako lowered his eyes. It’d been stupid to say it _wasn’t so bad_. 

“Look, Taako,” Kravitz said and turned to face him. “Everything, everyone from before is gone. Whatever this is,” he gestured between them, “is an opportunity. You _knew_ Sazed. You were there the day the Outbreak happened. Lucretia thinks you’re Patient Zero. If you can show me what happened, your sister and all the others might be able to cure you, cure everyone. No more empty people or quiet houses waiting for someone who won’t come home.” 

Taako sat back, suddenly unsure of himself, of Kravitz. “That’s a lot to pin to one guy,” he said and laughed nervously. 

“Two,” Kravitz said quietly and gestured between them. “There’s two of us.”

Taako nodded, swallowing. “I’ll see what I can do?” 

They were back in Taako’s dressing room. Taako ran his mind over his memories again. “I had a headache,” he murmured, touching his temple. The lights flared and he shielded his eyes. They dimmed again. 

“They called me on set,” he said as the door opened. A faceless woman opened and closed her mouth, disappearing again. Then they were standing under the lights. Kravitz peered out from behind a camera, looking around with keen interest. Taako turned to the room and sprawled across a couch. “And then the interviewers showed up.” 

A generic newscaster flickered on the couch across from him. He squinted at her, twirling a lock of hair. “Okay, roadblock,” he sighed, scratching the side of his face. 

“Wait,” Kravitz frowned and suddenly the newscaster’s face fleshed out in detail. “I know her.” Behind her a vague cameraman appeared. Blood and horror flickered intermittently across the anchor’s face. Taako blinked in surprise, lips parting as he turned to Kravitz in wordless question. 

The look of terror on the interviewer’s face seemed too familiar to Kravitz to put him at ease. 

“Uhm,” Kravitz started, hopping down from the seat. “They showed us this in basic training.” 

_Oh_.

Taako sat up in a wobbly metal chair. It was dark and he was crowded against Kravitz’s side. The only light came from the old TV above them. An image of himself sat in the monitor, but it was blurred and out of focus. 

A figure shrouded and looming at the front of the room tapped his podium. “This,” he announced and all the vague people around them rustled like wheat in the sway of his voice, “is the clearest footage of The Fall of Glamour Springs at the start of the Outbreak and the symptoms of Berserkers. While rare, they can take out an entire Outpost on their own. Pay close attention. There’ll be a quiz to follow.” 

_Click._

The figures in the room parted and they stood inside the monitor, as if tiny people standing on the ledge of a window. Kravitz took his hand. “Do you want to see it?” 

“ _No._ ” Taako squeezed his hand. “Not yet.” Whatever was in this footage of Kravitz’s was going to change him, change everything. 

Didn’t living mean change?

He turned around without letting go of Kravitz’s hand, swallowing thickly as he stared down at the room. He was surprised every student in the crowded room was distinct. 

“My graduating class,” Kravitz elaborated and looked down, too. “Well, we were all supposed to graduate together.” 

Taako turned to look at Kravitz’s solemn face. “Supposed to?” He thought he knew the answer. 

“Amelia died our first field mission,” Kravitz whispered and Taako had to lean closer to hear him. A redheaded girl in the crowd lit up in color. She laughed, fist thumping the table and then she stood up. One more smile and then she disappeared. 

“Oliver ran off with Mary-Lou.” A couple stood and raised their linked hands smiling as if taking the stage at the end of a play. “We found them next to a radio, playing love songs beside the herbicide they stole.” They took their bow and disappeared. 

“Jack stole a gun and ran into the woods.” A shy young man stood up, clutching a load of survival books. “I like to think he’s doing fine.” The man turned into a bushy-bearded, wild-haired warrior before fading, too. 

“Bo grew up in the orphanage with me.” A gap-tooth kid next to Kravitz’s empty seat hopped up on his chair. He grew up in flashes and saluted. “He broke his leg and wouldn’t let us carry him back. Snipers picked him off when he crawled towards the gate. They thought he was a—” Kravitz swallowed back a bitter laugh. “He wasn’t. Bo was a good man and a better officer.” Bo disappeared with a wave. 

Taako wanted to prepare himself for how the world was. He wanted to live and he wanted to know what world he’d live in, but he was scared. “What happened after you graduated?” He was scared this wasn’t a world he wanted to live in. 

_But he wanted to live._

Didn’t he? 

“Most of them died,” Kravitz told him honestly with a sad smile. People in the room faded until nearly sixty people had become only three. “I don’t always hear how. We do dangerous work and it’s not always z— _infected people_ who are trying to hurt us. People get desperate and then they get violent.” 

_Infected. Outbreak. Violent._

Whatever loomed behind them, Taako knew it wasn’t pretty. “The world kind of became terrible,” he laughed humorlessly, running his free hand through his hair. “I thought you said it was quiet and empty.” 

“Maybe it became terrible,” Kravitz shrugged and looked at the three people left. “Sam has two kids. She gave them names.”

“Okay?” Taako took a deep breath and frowned at Kravitz. “Where you goin’ with this?”

“My parents didn’t give me a name. Sam’s parents didn’t give her one either. Weren’t allowed to,” Kravitz told him and his words wrapped around Taako. It left Taako feeling like he was choking on them, breathlessly miserable. 

A life without a real name _and it was normal_. 

“Do _not_ even try to convince me that this is a world that doesn’t suck,” Taako laughed nervously, slapping a hand over his face. 

“Sam’s kids got names,” Kravitz went on and beamed down at the two new faces that appeared in the room next to a woman Taako assumed was Sam. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” The room filled with more faces until it was crowded with smiles. “Those kids won’t ever know what Sam and George and Tessa and I lost. They get all the things we’ve found or made since they got here.” He turned a grin on Taako. “They got a _name_ , Taako. They got a _family_. They got a _home_. And all the kids from now on could have that, if we’re good with what we’ve got now. If we’re careful and we’re good.” 

Something about the way Kravitz proclaimed his hope for the future—for things Taako took for granted—broke Taako. He wobbled and fell on his ass. Taako stared down at the laughing forms of all the people Kravitz had filled in place of those who were gone. Not replaced, no, but he hadn’t let his heart remain a room with empty seats like Taako had when the earth was still paved with the certainty the sun would rise every morning. 

The world Taako knew was gone. Everyone Taako had ever known save for Lup was gone. Everything he’d ever put in his heart or his head or his pride was _gone_.

Taako hugged his knees and cried loud, ugly tears. He wanted to wake up on set and laugh off this nightmare. He wanted to go home. He wanted his old life back. 

Kravitz knelt beside him and Taako accepted the comfort of his arms. “I don’t want this,” he sobbed into his chest, hating himself for telling Kravitz his hard-won life wasn’t _good enough_ for Taako. 

“I’m sorry,” Kravitz said and his words squeezed Taako around the chest and wrapped him up in its shake like a child being rocked. Taako hated himself again for needing Kravitz’s sincerity, for needing him to cry, too, for a world he’d never had. “I’m _so_ sor-ry.” He felt Kravitz’s voice crack in the shatter of his heart. “I’m sorry. I wish things were different, too. I wish so many things were different.”

Taako followed Kravitz’s gaze through his tears. Outside their little bubble in the sea of smiles, stood a small boy. One of the kids from the cracked playground. Taako thought he must have been a younger version of Kravitz. “I’m sorry,” Kravitz whispered and buried his face in Taako’s hair. 

Empty people in quiet house waiting for people who hadn’t come back. 

The little boy did not smile like the people around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy learning more about, well, everyone! We’re closing in on the end. 
> 
> The last 2-3 chapters will likely be posted in the same week (Monday, Wednesday, Friday) so you don’t have to wait so long to see the end. :) Which means we’re about 4 weeks from the conclusion.


	14. Kids I Once Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old secrets, old guilt and pain.

The lab practically hummed. It’d been years since the facility had been so busy. All the activity had moved out of Taako’s room so they could run tests. Lup liked to see their medical center this way, even if it was because her brother’s condition had changed in a way no one really understood. 

Except, maybe, one person. 

She hovered around the room, adjusting wires and IVs as if she were busy. Kravitz and Taako sat facing each other, both deeply asleep. 

“I think this is the scientist’s version of watching water boil,” Barry teased her, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. 

“Yet here you are, babe,” she smirked and turned. 

“You’re my water,” he answered easily, and held out his arms. Lup fell into them like it was second nature. She buried her face in his chest, letting Barry fold her up and carry the weight of her shoulders for a moment. 

Both heart monitors broke their steady rhythm and beeped faster, synced. 

They turned in time to see Kravitz’s eyes flutter open. Taako groaned in his sleep, eyes moving beneath his lids before he settled back into peace. Kravitz took deep breaths, reaching up to wipe tears away.

Lup rushed forward, putting her hands up as if she could stop him. “What happened?” 

“I‘m sorry,” Kravitz whispered. At the look she gave him, he bit the inside of his cheek and passed a hand over his face. “I need a break.” 

“Fine,” she told him tartly, anxiety lancing down her fingers.

Kravitz took off, probably to retreat to the living room. Barry and Lup were left staring at Taako, still asleep. 

“Well,” Barry said, breaking the silence. “Maybe it was a good talk.”

Lup grabbed a seat, sighing. “I’m tryin’ not to get my hopes up,” she admitted, leaning an elbow on the counter. 

“Kravitz has three things going for him.” Barry grinned, sitting right next to her. He held up three fingers. “He’s handsome, he’s gay and he’s easily flustered.” She laughed, taken aback. “Taako probably picked on him like a schoolboy with a playground crush.” 

“That sounds like him,” she said and tried to laugh. It didn’t sound much like a laugh. She was exhausted and had been for _years_. Whatever was going on in Kravitz’s head was the only ray of hope that the people they’d been caring for weren’t beyond help. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Barry said slowly, pulling out a piece of paper from his lab coat. He spread it out on the counter. It looked like Kravitz’s birth certificate. “Had Davenport do some digging.” The piece of paper was fresh, barely touched. It listed parents, place of birth, time of birth and the ID the state had given Kravitz. He pulled out another certificate. It was identical to Kravitz’s, but the exact time and ID were different. K56302-WAP: off by one. 

“A twin,” she said in wonder, glancing at Taako. “Does Kravitz know?” 

“Has to,” Barry said grimly. She didn’t like the look on his face. “He’s mentioned in the _incident_ report.” He pulled out a stapled stack of paper. Three pages long. 

It was an accident and death report. 

“K56301 dash WAP and K56302 dash WAP,” he read aloud, “were outside of Unit 0032 taking part in recreational activities yadda yadda.” His eyes skimmed down the page. “K56302 dash WAP was bitten by a KOS5. Infection probable. K56302 dash WAP was detained pending euthanization.” 

Lup’s blood boiled. 

Barry flipped the page. “K56302 dash WAP was taken by Officer Julia Waxman for euthanization at Site DF4229. Death confirmed. Body left behind for burial.” Then, the third page. “Remains of K56302 dash WAP missing; assumed scavenged by animals or KOS specimens. Officer Julia Waxman sought for questioning on exact execution site. Could not be found. See Missing Persons Report T4589.” 

“The kid,” Lup whispered, more to herself. Stories always connected somehow, and this was how Julia’s had connected to theirs. 

“The one she couldn’t kill,” Barry confirmed, putting the papers down. 

She closed her eyes, remembering what Julia had told them. “ _He was just a kid_ ,” she’d said. “‘It’d been almost twenty hours. He didn’t even look sick’” Lup quoted. “‘They didn’t even test him.’” 

She finished the story in her head, “ _I told him to run. I told him to just keep running and then I ran too._ ” 

Her story had stuck with Lup.

“They didn’t even test him,” Barry repeated. “We could have had a vaccine twenty years ago.” 

The state had let fear rule their choices. They were _scared_. If Julia hadn’t been tasked with pulling the trigger on that kid, someone else would have, and Julia wouldn’t have flinched. She’d told them as much. She’d been so scared back then, when safe zones were sparse. She’d been _scared_ when she’d let this nameless kid run off into the woods and shot twice at the ground. 

Lup tried so hard to understand and respect that fear. A part of her used it as fuel for awareness. She’d argue that whoever the _zombies_ had been, they were still in there, asleep. Just sleeping. Just waiting to be woken up. 

She stared at Taako as her mind tumbled over the kid, the state, the world. 

“Our vaccine isn’t sustainable,” Barry said bluntly, interrupting her thoughts. “If Kravitz dies, that’s it. I don’t think he’s a special blank bunch of eggs, Lup. We have to find his family and—”

“Gimme a sec, Barry,” she protested, hand sliding over her eyes. He went quiet. A few minutes passed as she tamed the whirlwind of her thoughts. “I need to talk to Kravitz.”

“I’ll bring him in,” Barry murmured. 

He stood, chair scraping on the tile. The door opened and closed. A few minutes went by. Lup dared to look at Taako’s sleeping face. His pupils moved under his eyelids, face slack like it hadn’t been in a long time. He had smile lines he’d be furious about when he—

 _When he wakes up_ , she let herself hope. 

The door opened behind her. “I’m here,” Kravitz said warily. She heard his shoes squeak on the tiles as he sat. The faux leather of the chair rustled as he shifted. 

“What did you see, Kravitz? Why did you need a break? Remember, no lies.”

The room was silent save what machines monitored Taako.

“When I was a kid,” Kravitz told her softly, “I was bitten. They took my brother instead of me and I never saw him again.” She finally lifted her head to look at him. He blinked back his tears, clearing his throat. “I keep my head down. I don’t make trouble. I _lie_. I keep living up to his name. I keep living, Lup. I have to.” 

Lup realized that Kravitz had never been allowed to mourn his brother, not really. Not in the way he needed to. “Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“I was scared,” Kravitz whispered. “I’ve never, _ever_ told _anyone_. I’m scared to say it now. Scared of what you’ll think. Scared of what _I_ think.”

“You were a _child_ , Kravitz,” Lup said and ran a hand down her face. “It should have never happened.” 

_He didn’t even look sick._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoooy!!


	15. Leave You Bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History, memory, promise, present, future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some implied violence towards children. As you know from last chapter, Julia did _not_ kill Kravitz's brother. However, the intention was still present in other guards.

The ball hit the chain link fence with a loud clang. Kravitz chased after it, too focused on their game to initially notice the man. 

The man rattled the fence. 

Kravitz looked up, surprised and cautious. Beyond the chain link fence was the Outside where the zombies lived. 

This man didn’t smile at him like they did. 

He walked towards him, glancing at where his teacher should have been. He caught his brother’s eyes. Fynn shook his head, gesturing for Kravitz to get away. Kravitz turned back to the man. “H-hello?” 

“He-ello-o,” the man groaned. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t doing well. He was cut up like he’d run through brambles, hair wild and ragged with branches and leaves. His nails were broken with mud crusted under, eyes barely able to focus on them. 

Kravitz stood directly in front of the man. “Do you need help?”

“He-elp,” the man groaned in agreement. He leaned against the fence for support. “Help.” 

Kravitz reached forward and— 

Fynn grabbed his shoulder and jerked him away from the fence. “Don’t,” he hissed, looking around suspiciously. “We don’t know who this is. He could be a zombie.”

“Co-ould be-e,” the man gurgled. 

Kravitz frowned and pulled away, crossing his arms. He sent his brother a glare. Even if Fynn was _right_ , he was too much of a teacher’s pet. They’d finally gotten to an age where they tried to distinguish themselves from the same shadow they cast. “Baby,” he sniped under his breath. 

“What was that?” Fynn leveled a _look_ that made Kravitz squirm. 

“Ba-aby,” the man echoed, rattling the fence again. 

Fynn and Kravitz both scowled at him before turning their attention back on each other. “He needs _help_ ,” Kravitz argued, and grabbed hold of the fence. It was topped with barbed wire, but the orphans had learned how to deal with that to get into the town a long time ago. 

“Kravitz, _don’t_ ,” Fynn warned, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll just get cut up on the wire. How are you going to help him anyways?” 

“Shut up,” Kravitz snapped and spun. “If I walk him back in through the gates, the guards will help.” 

“Or they’ll just shoot you,” Fynn snorted, slapping Kravitz’s hand away from the fence. “You don’t even have your ID, do you?” 

Kravitz went to say something else but Fynn was already halfway up the fence. He figured Fynn had thought his idea was good after all and decided not to comment, in case Fynn stopped to argue his pride. 

The man watched Fynn start to climb too, head tilting back as Fynn slipped under the cheap barbed wire, leg out. The man reached up to help, grabbing his foot when it was in reach.

He _pulled_. 

Fynn shouted in surprise and clung to the top, “Stop!” The man pulled harder, teeth gnashing as he tried to lift his face up to Fynn’s foot. Fynn started screaming in earnest and Kravitz scaled the fence to grab onto his arms. 

Their teacher finally ran over with a gaggle of other boys, a guard hot on her trail. A bullet hit the man in the head and he slumped over, leaving Kravitz with only a ringing in his ears. 

Fynn kept screaming, “He bit me! He bit me!” 

The rest of it was a blur. 

They got Fynn back over the fence. More guards came. Fynn and Kravitz were taken into a classroom. _Quarantine_. Kravitz remembered bandaging Fynn’s foot with his shirt. There was no nurse or teacher to help them. 

“I’m gonna die,” Fynn sobbed. “I’m gonna be a zombie.” 

“Stop crying, stupid,” Kravitz told him, hugging himself to hold back his own despair. “You ever seen a kid zombie?” 

“N-no,” Fynn sniffled, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I haven’t.” 

“Then you’re not gonna be one,” Kravitz announced, sitting down in front of him. 

“They’re gonna shoot me. You heard the guards,” Fynn whispered, hiding his face in his knees. 

Kravitz couldn’t remember that, but was willing to admit he hadn’t been paying too much attention. “Only if you get sick,” he reminded Fynn, giving him a light shove on the shoulder. “You’ll get an infection and then you’ll get better. Like Molly did.” 

“Molly’s a dog,” Fynn said defensively, wiping his nose. 

“And you’re a kid,” Kravitz went on, waving his hands. “Kids and dogs don’t become zombies if they get bit. They just get an infection. They talked about shooting Molly, too, but then she got better.”

“What if they think I won’t get better?” 

Kravitz didn’t know how to answer this so he just frowned, looking off into the distance. The idea hit him like lightning. “Well, I’ll go instead,” he whispered low enough only Fynn could hear. “I’m not gonna get sick so they’ll just send me back. They can’t ever tell us apart anyway. Give me your shoe.” 

Fynn pulled his foot away defensively as Kravitz ripped his own shoe off. “No, I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Kravitz rolled his eyes and stole Fynn’s shoe, shoving his unbroken one over the shoddy bandaging. “I’m your older brother, so I—” 

“K56302 dash WAP?” 

They both turned to a guard standing in the doorway. Kravitz stood up. “I’m here.” Fynn grabbed his arm as if to stop him, but Kravitz shook him off. “Are you taking me to the nurse?” 

“No,” the guard said slowly. She frowned between the two of them. “No, I–I’m not.” She stopped again and pushed her visor up. Kravitz knew the guards were people under the armor, but it still surprised him to see she had a face. 

She looked nice. 

“How old are you?” 

Kravitz kept himself from looking to his brother for the answer. “Nine.”

“Seven,” Fynn corrected. “We’re seven.”

“O-oh,” she said slowly. “Do you have names? I-I mean besides your state IDs. What do you call each other?” 

They couldn’t even let the other boys know. “Fynn,” Kravitz said.

Fynn swallowed thickly. “Kravitz,” he whispered. 

“Like the actor,” Kravitz added on Fynn’s behalf. “Because we’re from Glamour Springs.” 

“Fynn and Kravitz. Fynn Kravitz, I get it,” she smiled sadly. “Have you—?” 

“Waxman!” They all turned to another guard who stood in the doorway. “It’s a long way to the site. We need to get going before it gets dark.” 

“Right,” the guard sighed and put a hand on Kravitz’s shoulder. “Come with me, Fynn.” 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Kravitz promised Fynn. “If they try to take me somewhere else, we’ll just meet back at Glamour Springs.” He glanced one last time at his brother and followed the guards out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed hearing some of Kravitz's Deal. *jazzhands*


	16. Full of Iron and Full of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return to dreams, the prelude to the end.

They sat and stared at the still image behind them. Taako was curled against Kravitz’s chest like he hadn’t moved from their last meeting. Kravitz didn’t know when they’d gotten close enough with one another for Taako to seek physical comfort from him. There was an allure to falling into thinking Taako liked him especially and not that Kravitz was literally the only person in the world at that moment from whom Taako could get any comfort. “This place is amazing,” he said, to fill the silence. 

“Yeah?” Taako sniffed, wiping at his face. 

“Yeah,” Kravitz echoed. He dared to peek down at Taako. Their eyes met and Kravitz looked away quickly. Taako’s face was streaked with mascara, eyes puffy and red.

The quiet settled over them like a blanket. 

Kravitz was all too aware of his heartbeat. He stopped himself from taking too-deep breaths. Which only made him feel short of breath and he took one, deep stuttery breath. At that point, he remembered this was something of a dream and he didn’t need to breathe. He swallowed thickly.

“I feel bad,” he said softly. This time, Taako said nothing. “I forgot some of their faces a little.” Taako’s breath continued a steady rhythm against his chest. It left the cotton of his shirt damp and warm. “I promised myself I would remember everyone.” 

“What do you do, Kravitz?” 

Kravitz was surprised. For some reason, he hadn’t expected that question. “I’m a Peace Officer. These days, I mostly recover z— _infected people_.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He needed to get better at not calling them _zombies_. They were just people. Sick, dying people who needed help. 

Sick, dying people he had once taken joy and pride in killing. 

He put that thought away to unpack later. This wasn’t exactly the time or place to deal with the guilt that had been bubbling just under the surface for the last few days. Taako was looking up at him, waiting for him to say more. “W-we,” he started, trying to encapsulate his line of work. “We patrol roads to keep them safe. If we find infected people, we, uhm, _dispatch_ or capture them. What we capture, we take to medical facilities like your sister’s.”

“By dispatch you mean kill,” Taako laughed humorlessly against his chest. 

“Yeah,” Kravitz murmured, looking away. “Yeah, I’ve killed a lot of infected people. A lot of them I could have—.” _I could have saved,_ he made himself finish in his head. He closed his eyes. “It’s not important.” 

Taako rubbed his face against Kravitz’s chest. “Kravitz, can you just tell me what happened?” 

Of course, he wanted Kravitz to say it out loud. “The Outbreak was in the evening,” Kravitz whispered. “It was—is a parasite. Like the one Sazed wanted to infect you with.” Taako tilted his head back, turning as if he expected something to play on the outside of their TV ledge. The only footage Kravitz had seen of the outbreak was behind them. So nothing changed, but when he turned his head he realized darkness had taken over outside the TV. The concrete floor was illuminated beneath them and nothing stretched all around it, black fog licking the edges of light. 

“Infected people started attacking other people, biting them. Spreading the parasite.” Kravitz frowned and rubbed his cheek. “A lot of people died.” He sighed and looked up. “Eventually, order was re-established in most places, but it took five, ten years? A lot of city-states, if you know what those are.” 

“Yeah, I’m familiar,” Taako nodded. 

“I work for West Acquisition Point,” Kravitz said, trying to think of a good way to explain. “At first, it was to pay off the debts from them raising me, but now it’s more like— Well, now, I don’t know what else I’d do.” 

“Debts? From raising you?” Taako frowned, eyes narrowing. He didn’t look mad at _Kravitz_ at least. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, trying to gauge where Taako’s anger came from. “My birth parents couldn’t pay the cost of the hospital bills, so they took away their guardianship as collateral.” 

“Oh, of course they did,” Taako mumbled angrily under his breath. 

“They sort of keep all the city-states together under the United States,” Kravitz valiantly and awkwardly tried to forge on, hoping Taako’s mood would change. “Provide military and medical aid, patrol the streets. The United States isn’t like old movies anymore, it’s more of a mercenary band with a contract you need to abide by if you want their help, not like the uh, uhm—”

Taako eyed him skeptically. “The constitution?” 

“Yeah! Yes, the constitution. They kept, uh, parts of it,” he tried to explain. “I think? They never, really, taught us what it was like before, in school.”

“I’m pretty sure what you just explained about your upbringing would be illegal, for starters. What about the president? Congress?” 

Kravitz opened and closed his mouth. “The what?” 

Taako huffed in frustration. “Who leads it?” 

Kravitz paused, feeling like this was a test he was bound to fail. “The CEO and board of directors,” he answered cautiously. Taako waited for him to go on and began to look annoyed when he didn’t. “E-each city-state elects an executive and the place that pays the most in tribute to the United States gets their director chosen as the Head.”

“Right,” Taako said slowly, rubbing his temples. “How does the CEO get picked?” 

“Uh,” Kravitz stammered. This was definitely a pop quiz. “I, uhm, don’t know?” 

“Great,” Taako sighed and patted Kravitz loosely on the shoulder. “When I wake up, I gotta start a revolution to reinstate the government and I _hate_ the government.” 

Kravitz couldn’t help but laugh. In the old movies and on TV, America seemed so bright. Everyone took their _civic duties_ seriously and lived in nice houses. There were no fences, just flags and green fields. He wasn’t so naive to think it wasn’t an idealized version on the screen, but it had to be a glimpse of what Americans thought their country _could_ be. Kravitz could never imagine the world like it was in movies. 

It felt nice to hope that someone among all the people they might be able to wake up could make a change for the better. Maybe he would look out of his window and there would be miles and miles of green fields broken only by the roads connecting each city-state to one another. Connecting everyone to each other. _United_ , he thought. Everyone at peace, protected by each other, with names on their mailboxes and red phones on their walls and radios singing new music. 

A part of him started to miss this world he knew had never existed. 

“What?” Taako flashed him a grin. “Can’t see me as a revolutionary?”

 _It could exist_ , he let himself think. 

“N-no,” Kravitz admitted, and let his hands fall to Taako’s hips. He caught himself and awkwardly removed them. “I think you could be. If you wanted to.” 

“You’re right.” Taako laughed and put his hands lightly against Kravitz’s chest. Kravitz was hyperaware of the soft indent of his nails. This was dreaming, but they still had some kind of touch that was real and intimate. “What about my sister? How is she?”

A few strands of Taako’s hair brushed his forearms. “Mm,” he hummed, trying to put a finger on what he thought of Lup. “I don’t know what she’d do if I told her you would never wake up,” he admitted. Taako wanted the truth, so Kravitz felt he would have to give it to him. “She’d figure it out, eventually.” 

“Yeah,” Taako muttered, closing his eyes. “She had to face this alone, yanno. I think I’m ready. For whatever happens next.”

They both turned to the scene behind them. 

It played out as it had time and time again in every training facility the world over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week begins the cascade to the end. :)


	17. The End of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen to the sound, look for the signs. Not all is lost just because it's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note there's some gore and minor sexual content in this chapter.

The radio crackled to life. “ _Gooood morning, Glamour Springs!_ ” Taako almost fell out of bed to turn off the alarm, but missed and sent it flying off the end table. It landed on the snooze button and went quiet. 

“Fuck,” he swore at the floor, stretched halfway out of his bed. 

His curtains opened automatically. Each shard of sunlight struck him directly on his head. _Right where proteins are chewin’ away my brain_ , he thought, before banishing it to the back of his mind. He screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples. 

He slowly rolled back into bed, staring at the ceiling. The other half of his bed was unmade, his faceless one night stand long gone. A thought crossed his mind to call Lup and abate the sudden wave of loneliness. 

She was on the other side of the world, hours away and probably asleep. 

He let his eyes flutter shut. “ _—beautiful, sunny high of 80 today, folks,_ ” the alarm trilled as it came back to life. Taako threw a pillow at it and it turned off again. He finally got up, moping through his morning routine. 

Dressed in a big sunhat and equally sunny colors, Taako made his way down to the beach. He sent a text to his butler telling him to bring a board down from storage. Outside his posh apartment was a billboard of himself, his last movie premiering in only a week. It played a clip of him and his co-star kissing. Taako made a face at it. 

The straight things he did for money. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed dog walker covered his mouth and shake with laughter. Taako glared at him behind his sunglasses, turning to the streetcar as it rolled up to the stop. He hopped onto the back and held onto his hat. The streetcar driver tipped his hat and moved along the tracks. 

It always surprised him how few people recognized him when he wandered the city like a normal person. Which was a blessing, as much as it irked him to see adoring fans not even give him a second glance. Taako loved this big city and never wanted to give up losing himself in it. 

He hopped off the car using his big umbrella to twirl from the back in an elegant pirouette. An old woman feeding pigeons applauded politely and Taako gave her a mock bow. The beach stretched out behind her, fenced off from view or entry unless you had a badge like Taako did. 

He stuck his umbrella in the sand. His butler was already stretched out, attractive and welcoming across a beach towel in little more than swim trunks. For a moment, something didn’t feel right. 

His butler looked like the dog walker and the old man feeding pigeons and the streetcar driver. 

“Taako?”

Taako shook free from that thought and practically threw himself on the sand next to Diego, burying his face in immaculately carved abs. Diego, for his part, was a pretty lover Taako kept around under the guise of a butler. If Taako was honest with himself — and he rarely was — he had liked Diego for the way he reminded Taako of Fynn. His long-standing crush on the man had never really left him, no matter how long he’d hoped Fynn would stop being impressive. “Bad day already,” he mumbled and kissed up Diego’s chest. Diego tensed, pulling away. Taako sighed, exasperated, “What now, Diego? I thought today’s game plan was to fuck until we—”

“I just—” Diego interrupted and licked his lips, glancing out at the water. “Taako, do you know who I am?” He turned back to Taako. 

Taako squinted at him suspiciously until he got a sudden, sharp flood of painful memories. He pressed a finger to his temple as if to stop the flow. It ebbed, and Taako was left only with the fact that this was Kravitz, not Diego. 

It didn’t matter. 

_No_ , it did. Kravitz was not just another pretty lover. He was—

Taako put his hand on Kravitz’s cheek, caressing it gently. “Kravitz,” he whispered, and then stole a kiss. 

For a few frantic heartbeats, Kravitz didn’t reciprocate. 

And then he kissed Taako back, a flower blooming under his touch. Kravitz wrapped his arms around Taako’s neck and deepened the kiss. He pulled back, running a hand over Taako’s chest. “We should skip this part, Taako,” he panted, looking very much like he didn’t want to stop kissing. 

Taako raised an eyebrow but put his hands in his lap. “Why?” 

“Well, we’re— This is _private_ and you barely recognize me right now and—” Kravitz mumbled nervously, hands patting along Taako’s shoulders as if he didn’t know what to do with them. 

“I wanted to fuck you on the hood of that old truck,” Taako said easily, feeling pleased with himself for remembering he _did_ like Kravitz. He very much knew who he was and all the places he wanted Kravitz’s mouth. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kravitz mumbled and grabbed Taako, pulling him into another kiss. 

A part of Taako knew this was only a memory. Kravitz’s touch was a ghost beside the sensation of his past lover. Kravitz didn’t move like Diego, didn’t caress his body in the same places, and Diego had certainly never pecked the corner of Taako’s mouth after a kiss. Kravitz was tender and Taako yearned to really feel _his_ touch, not the quick fuck on a beach towel with a long-gone lover who already knew how to get Taako off. 

“I barely feel anything,” Kravitz murmured against his ear. “Not really. It’s—”

Taako cut him off by ending the memory. They were both now sitting on boards, the ocean rocking under them. He pressed a finger to his temple. There was something he’d been doing, but he couldn’t remember what. He glanced back at Kravitz. 

Kravitz looked away. 

They surfed until it was time for Taako to go to work. He was late, as usual. 

As soon as he got in, his phone rang. He picked it up and put it against his ear. “Taako, you got five.” 

Whatever happened next, Taako couldn’t begin to describe. He’d dropped his phone. He pressed a hand against his aching ear and rocked back on his heels. Mercifully, his phone had hung up. He touched his temples and carefully picked his phone up again. 

Nothing at all seemed unusual about it. It started to ring again, ‘ _Sazed_ ,’ but he ignored it and tossed the phone on the couch. The makeup artist gave him an odd look and gestured for him to sit. 

He was getting sicker. 

When he was all pretty and polished, he sashayed out to greet his interviewer. “Hey.” He waved at her and sat on the couch across. “Just a standard set of q and a’s, right?” 

“Right.” Ellie smiled and arranged herself to look prim on the couch. “Nothing challenging, but we’ll be live in 5.” 

“Got it,” Taako said easily and put on a winning smile as the lights on the camera turned red. 

“We’re here live with Taako Amaiat, star of Mister Horror—”

A headache drowned whatever she said next. He cringed away from the lights, clutching his head. His vision blurred and he slumped off the couch, to the floor. 

The last thing he saw were the struts of the studio. All of it peeled back from steel beams, holding it up. He blinked once, no control over his body. His heart beat. The light caught and held dust, suspended in the moment. 

Then, he was outside his own body, on the ledge of their window into this world beside Kravitz. Kravitz took his hand. Taako laced their fingers together. 

This was Kravitz’s memory now.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Ellie knelt beside him. She shook his shoulder and then put a finger to his wrist, searching for a pulse. Other aides ran forward, practically swarming Taako on the floor. “Oh,” she whispered. Taako’s hand tightened in Kravitz’s. “Oh.” 

“Someone call a doctor!” 

Sazed shoved through the side door in a lab coat already covered in blood. “Get away!” He waved his arms frantically, barely heard over the clamour. “Run!” He tried to shove through the crowd, Taako obscured by the press of bodies as the cameraman backed away. “Everyone needs to evacuate!” 

A scream of agony came from within the crowd and was cut off by a sickening crunch. 

More screams. 

Everyone scattered and the camera blurred as it fell to the ground, lens cracking. Taako — _no_ , a monster that looked like he did — was kneeling over someone, their broken jaw in one hand. It took Taako a moment to realize it was Sazed, eyes glossy and dead. 

A tape recorder fell out of his hand. 

Taako covered his mouth and turned into Kravitz’s shoulder. His eyes stayed wide, staring at nothing behind them. There were more screams, more sickening crunches. Bangs, gunfire. Taako flinched, mouth opening in silent horror. A police siren. An officer demanded he cease. More gunfire. More screams. More carnage. 

Relative silence settled what felt like a lifetime later.

Then only thing he could hear was the sound of eating. He put his hands uselessly over his ears, tears leaking down his cheeks. The wet noises continued on. 

He couldn’t look. He didn’t dare. He knew what he would see, because he had lived it. 

He wanted to live more than this. 

His hands balled fists against Kravitz’s chest. He screamed to cover the sound of what he’d done, what he’d been. “I’m so sorry. It’s okay,” Kravitz whispered over the noise. His hands were gentle, his skin warm, his voice so kind it broke Taako again. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll make it okay.” 

“How do you know?!” Taako hadn’t meant to snap at him. 

Kravitz took his face in his hands, expression so soft it burned Taako’s skin. “I really don’t know,” he laughed and brushed a strand of hair behind Taako’s ear. “Every day I live, it gets a little better. And maybe that doesn’t outweigh all of that day’s bad, but the important part is it got a little better too. We can only hope we make it okay, make it _to_ okay.” After a pause, Kravitz hid his face, “S-sorry, it’s stupid.” 

Taako grabbed his hand and uncovered Kravitz’s face. It wasn’t the words, but the way Kravitz smiled at him through tears and through lifetimes in the future and through a world Taako suddenly wanted to know. “You’re not stupid, Kravitz,” he said quietly. “I just—I don’t know _how_ to see the world that way.”

“You don’t have to,” Kravitz told him urgently, putting his hand over Taako’s. “I want to know what the world looks like to you. What it can be with you in it, too.” 

They were no longer on the ledge of a TV screen with their backs to the horror of the past. 

Taako clung to Kravitz as they stood in endless snow drifts. People gathered under a giant pine tree, alight with snow and icicles and an old flip phone at the very top. Its network error served as the star. Kravitz moved far enough away to look with him. 

The world changed again and they were in a swamp. Three women urged their cattle through the water, riding atop bulls as if they were part of the herd themselves. Spanish moss clung to their cowboy hats, sweat thick upon their brows. One of them stopped to pick up a calf, wading through the water with its bleating mouth held up high. 

They were in a cracked basketball court, a rotting suburb all around them. Children ran with each other, laughing in a game of tag. 

The world changed again.

Taako took a step back, hands holding Kravitz’s tightly as he stared up in wonder. Skyscrapers had become trees, tall and green as any redwood. Birds filled the gaps between steel with color and song. Here at the base, he could see red eyes glowing in the darkness. 

People like him, scared and lost in an endless, too-pretty city. 

“Can we help them?” 

It took Taako a moment to realize he’d been the one who had spoken. He finally looked at Kravitz. _Really_ looked at him. 

Kravitz was tired, but his eyes still seemed to shine when he looked at Taako. “What do you see?”

“Why do you care?” It wasn’t meant to be mean. Taako wanted to know what Kravitz was thinking, _how_ he could still care. 

Kravitz looked away, around. “I had a twin, too,” he whispered. The world did not change to encompass him. “I think sometimes if he was still alive, we’d be strangers. I’d still do almost anything to bring him back.” He turned and smiled at Taako. Kravitz blinked in surprise like he’d had a realization. “I’m going to try something.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

Then, he was gone. 

Taako turned and turned, looking for him. “Kravitz?” His voice echoed through the empty street. Had he woken up? Had he left? Were they—?

They were in a hospital. 

Taako realized he was seeing the world through Kravitz’s eyes, as Kravitz saw it. Kravitz was lying on his side. Across the hallway, through an open door, he could just see the edge of Lup. He felt Kravitz’s eyes prick with tears. 

It was different to see her. Different to see her as she was in this new world. She was right by Taako, patient. 

Waiting for him to come home. 

Taako blinked tears away. This was no longer the world as Kravitz saw it. Everything was bright and white and hurt to look at. He was cold and _ached_. Groggily, he lifted his head. 

Lup was asleep nearby, head buried in her arms. She looked older and tired, even as she slept. Taako tried to reach out to her, but found his wrists strapped to the chair he was in. He smiled in exasperation. She’d always been a light sleeper. If he called out to her he knew she’d be up in an instant. 

He decided not to wake her. 

She deserved to rest. 

He heard footsteps to his right and saw Kravitz approaching warily. He was different in life too. Different from the person he thought himself to be. “Is that you?” Kravitz whispered, leaning down. 

“Yeah,” Taako rasped. “Guess whatever you did worked.” Kravitz started to undo his restraints. “What _did_ you do?” 

“Woke up,” Kravitz said, freeing his right hand, then starting on his left. “But I didn’t pull away from you when I did, like I usually do.” 

“Oh,” Taako said, not completely sure what that meant. “Right.” 

Lup stirred, lifting her head with her eyes still closed. 

“Mornin’,” Taako said, rubbing his wrists and grinning at her. 

Her eyes snapped open and the whole world ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So begins the end cascade! This is really the end of the story. I think you could stop here and still come away okay, but the epilogues are really special to me. They were what I saw first when writing this story.
> 
> This was a little anticlimactic, I know. Most wonderful things in life don't begin with a snap so much as a sigh. 
> 
> There will be 2 epilogue chapters posted on Wednesday and Friday this week as a final bow.


	18. Epilogue: Time to Replace What We Gave Away

There was a knock at the door. 

Johann rose slowly, his joints popping as he went. It wasn’t often they got visitors. He opened the door, full expecting the person at it to realize their mistake. 

A woman in a navy uniform stood with a flag and an urn. He hadn’t seen a navy uniform in three decades. “Mr. Jepsen?”

He startled at the name. Johann Jepsen hadn’t existed on paper for many, many years. “Y-yes?”

“A team was able to recover and identify your brother, Ray Jepsen,” she explained, and offered him the vase. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” 

He took the urn, baffled. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “Oh, I see,” he murmured. He’d known his brother was dead along with everyone else but to have him, to know he was at rest—

“Johann, who is it?”

Avi appeared next to him, wrapping a protective arm around his waist. 

“I’m Officer Kent, sir. I was giving your husband his brother’s remains,” the woman said automatically. “We would also like to give you an offer. I haven’t been in the Navy for years, but I knew Ray and I wouldn’t offer this if I hadn’t done it myself. We have a vaccine at the hospital where I volunteer and they need more people to participate in clinical trials.”

* * *

“She can wake up?” 

Carey bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. Killian squeezed her hand comfortingly. 

“We think so,” Lucretia answered, pulling out a chart. “Your grandmother has been in a good physical state since you gave her to our care. It’d be like she woke up from a nap. We think it may have cured her early-onset—”

Carey choked and covered her face as tears ran down her cheeks. “Yes,” she interrupted, “Gods, yes, _please_.” 

She’d stopped visiting her grandmother years ago. Seeing her frozen in a cell had been worse than not seeing recognition in her eyes. Carey had never dared to hope she could get better, never dared to think she could thank the woman who had taught her to walk and smile and wish. 

She dared herself to dream bigger. 

And Carey dreamed of the future with everyone she loved.

* * *

Jack shifted nervously with the flowers, leg jumping impatiently. He checked his watch. It’d been maybe 9 seconds since the last time he’d checked his watch. 

He tried to resist the hope blooming in his heart. 

“Mr. Westward?” 

He practically jumped to his feet. The nurse smiled at him, a big shiny volunteer badge to match his own. He wasn’t working now, of course. 

“She’s ready to see you.” 

Jack followed her back, trying to hold in his tears. Two men were in the room with her, a doctor nearby. “They were waiting on you,” the nurse explained and gestured him inside. 

One of the two men smiled at him. Jack knew them more by reputation than person. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. 

They were the cure. 

“Hey June,” one of them said, smiling down at the little girl. “It’s time to wake up. Your dad’s got some flowers for you.”

June’s wide eyes blinked— _once, twice_ —

Jack choked, hand going to his daughter’s. “Hey Junebug,” he whispered. 

He’d never get to thank the two men who woke her up. For the first time in twelve years, Jack forgot entirely about June ever needing to be cured. All he knew was that his world had come alive again. 

She turned her head and smiled sleepily. “Hey Dad. Did I fall asleep before we finished the movie?”

* * *

The priestess spoke solemnly. Her words were lost to Brian, the only one to stand beside the casket filled only with ash. He felt a little bad that the wind stole her words, unheard. 

He sunk to his knees, staring at the name on the gravestone. He’d lost his mothers, his sister, and his lover. A part of him had regretted that his fiance hadn’t remained missing just so he could continue to hope for _someone_. 

Someone touched his shoulder. 

He looked up, startled. 

“Howdy,” Ren said with subdued cheer. “Your boss said I’d find you here. I-if it’s not a great time, I can—”

Brian pulled his sister down into a hug, sobbing all the way, not even caring she was obviously a grief-induced hallucination.

* * *

As much as it pained Lydia, she carefully wrote, ‘ _Thank you. Thank you for everything, Taako._ ’ She closed the card. They’d been rivals once. In an empire built on tomorrow, they’d warred for billboards and screens and eyes. 

Now, Lydia didn’t know what they were. Certainly not rivals, not anymore. 

Lydia was older than her twin. Her twin was younger than their baby brother. It wasn’t how she’d thought the future would be. 

She put the card in an envelope and sealed it. This would have to do. 

As much as she would have liked to deliver the card in person, she had much too much to do as a CEO.

* * *

Sloane laid flowers at the steps of the memorial. A statue of a parent and a child. Their hands were positioned like their fingers would intertwine, but between them were the hands of a clock. Its face were on their arms, their person. 

All of their lost time. 

Sloane stepped back and Hurley put an arm around her waist. 

They’d gone to sleep together and woken up thirty years later and miles apart. It’d taken weeks to find each other again. Sloane wrapped her arms around Hurley and hugged her tightly. A cheer sounded in the crowd as the rocket took off behind them. 

A new satellite, a new light in the sky to replace the ones that had fallen. It was their light, the one they’d made together with all the knowledge they’d kept. Before they’d gone to sleep thirty years ago, the news had declared that space programs were dead. 

“ _Everything we need is already out there!_ ”

They turned, arms around each other and looked at the wonder and fire in the eyes of the crowd as the rocket climbed higher and higher and higher still. 

They’d missed the end of two worlds but they had made it to the beginning of another. As long as they did it together, they would make things right. They would put wonder and fire back where it belonged.

* * *

Noelle pushed her hat back, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked back on the people following her. A whole train of people in busted up cars pulled by oxen and horses. They were full of seeds, of promises, of everything. She turned her eyes south. 

The world was getting bigger and smaller every day. She smiled at the setting sun. When the sun came back, they’d all start new lives. 

Over the ridge was where their new home lay. 

This time, they would build it to live beyond them. This time, they’d make a world that could last. This time, they would leave their dreams for their children to live when it was their time to sleep again.

* * *

Magnus put his new family portrait in his wallet. He brushed the face of his wife, his son, their new additions. Then, he closed his wallet and looked out at the sea.

They were separate, for now. He thought it was funny; he’d fought so hard to have Julia back, and he was the one leaving this time. Of course, he’d been the first to volunteer for infection. There’d been risks, but they were outweighed by it being the right thing to do. 

Davenport plopped a beer on the table next to him. He’d been the second to volunteer after Magnus. All he had was the people he’d lost guiding him on this voyage. “To good health,” he grinned, and tipped his own beer towards Magnus. 

Magnus cracked his beer open and toasted with the captain. “To the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more, final epilogue to be posted on Friday.


	19. Epilogue: Not the End, Just Beginning Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.

Their tombstones were tidy. It was more dangerous here, at the edge of the woods. People loved them enough to brave the dangers and clean the fragile rocks. Their names were engraved crudely, barely legible on the stone. On a windswept hill beside a broken church, they could watch Glamour Springs from the other side of the city. 

_No_ , Kravitz thought as he placed wildflowers on Fae and Fynn’s graves, _they are watching their home._

Not far away stood a small village. More and more fences had fallen since the Cure, but this place had never had them. No one—as far as the residents were concerned—had ever been infected as long as they’d been there. The citizens described themselves as ‘lucky’ or ‘blessed’. 

Lucretia had told them they were all infected. Each and every one of them could be part of the cure. 

Kravitz glanced back at Taako. He was mumbling something to his horse, Garyl, feeding him a sugar cube and petting his mane. Garyl was a borrowed horse for their trek through the country, but Kravitz had a feeling they’d end up buying the old gelding. Taako had bonded too much with him over the last few months through their forced roadtrip. 

Forced only because the doctors had told them they needed a break now that there were other people who could cure patients. 

Kravitz stood, smiling softly. They’d helped so many people. For a while they’d been on their feet for 18 hours a day. They would fall asleep in a closets and use each other as a pillow. It was stressful, but he was strangely fond of those moments together. The cure needed both of them, silver and gold. 

Sometimes it didn’t work, if they were too stressed or sad or upset. The parasites would feel it and wouldn’t sleep like they asked them to. That always made it worse, but they’d take a break together. They’d get through it together. 

They were two halves of the end. 

Then, there were all the other people and it wasn’t just two halves. Brave people who willingly infected themselves with silver or gold parasites. People who connected to Kravitz and Taako in ways they’d forever fail to explain. Ways that kept the parasites docile and content and quiet. Ways that spread the network of influence as long as there was always a silver and gold, together. 

It was no longer just the two of them, but a whole net of people waiting to catch them if they needed to fall. 

Kravitz regretted not taking Taako into the world sooner. He’d barely been allowed to leave the hospital. He’d almost forgotten why he’d fallen in love with Taako. He’d almost forgotten the way stars looked in his eyes. 

Kravitz was awe-struck again by how impossibly lucky he was. 

Taako looked up, Kravitz’s thoughts beckoning to him. ‘ _I’m okay_ ,’ Kravitz said in the language that wasn’t anything at all. A reassurance. An image of their hands intertwined on a moonless night.

It was time to stop stalling. “Alright,” he called as he walked over to Taako. Taako helped him onto Garyl’s back and Kravitz wrapped his arms around Taako’s waist. 

“Hey, just so you know,” Taako started as he spurred Garyl into moving. “Your brother called right before we left the motel this morning.”

“My brother called?” Kravitz was still getting used to having a family at all.

“Yeah. Said he was your older brother.” Taako shrugged noncommittally and half-turned with a grin. “He wanted me to tell you they aren’t fuckin’ with you or anything when we get there. They have your original birth certificate. The one with your name. Swore up and down it was real, pointed out his own name is—” 

“Wait, wait,” Kravitz said, mildly lost, as they started down the dirt path towards the town. “My name? Why would he be worried about me thinking they were screwing with me?”

Taako snickered and nodded his head to the banner stretched out across the roof of a house at the end of the drive. Underneath the banner was a whole village, waiting on him. They cheered when they noticed the horse, smiles obvious even from a distance. Kravitz had to squint to read the banner, raising his hand in a half-wave. 

He took a deep breath, arm tightening around Taako. His other hand froze in the air. “Oh,” he whispered, feeling very stupid. They’d given him a _name_. Of course they’d given him a name. 

Something old. Something that felt like it was only just beginning. Something that felt more like it belonged to their world than to him, but he would take it. 

The banner read, ‘ _WELCOME HOME, HOPE!_ ’ 

And the world got a little better every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNNND! That's it!!!
> 
> Thank you all again for keeping up with this. It's over over for real!! 
> 
> This is so wild for me. It was a fun, exciting projects. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. :D
> 
> Also, if you're curious about Kravitz's given name, it was seeded in a few different chapters. Most noticeably, in Fynn's saved searches: "Hope Michael Kravitz: 0 update(s)"
> 
> Just a little thing to look for, for those of you re-reading. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> As a fun addition, I've created a playlist for this fic. Check it out [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3WLhSYCB3UPrYZp7vCtUKp). 
> 
> Feel free to follow my [Tumblr](https://evitcani-writes.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Evit_cani).
> 
> Consider checking out [my website](https://www.evitcani.com/) where I post previews and other works!


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